


Faces and Fantasies

by eurusholmmes



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Military Backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 64
Words: 194,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25133290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eurusholmmes/pseuds/eurusholmmes
Summary: "You're not some indestructible force, John." Delaney whispered, running her fingers along the congealed blood on his jaw. "You're a human being with a heart that you bury deep within you because you're terrified to wear it on your sleeve."Peace. Have you ever felt the kind of peace that settles deep into your bones? Serving in the Army, Delaney Chrysler had not known the meaning of peace until John Reese came into her life. And as quickly as she gained him, she lost him.
Relationships: John Reese/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. In The Beginning, There Was Peace

**Will be written slowly; every chapter will be beta'd.**

***Update: I had a conversation with somebody about the Army and found out that this entire scenario I started out with literally makes no sense, so this chapter is brand new but still with the same background information.**  
  
_Delaney Anne Chrysler  
\- Served for the Army in Iraq and Afghanistan as a Captain after OCS graduation; was both a combat medic and one who diffused bombs.  
\- Worked with the CIA for a little less then a year; Resigned when a mission went wrong and she lost Mckenna Burns, her childhood best friend.  
\- Oldest daughter of Darla and Phillip Chrysler, who were married for 30 years and parents to Delaney and Samantha.  
\- Began working with Zoe Morgan in '09 until '11; Zoe is her closest ally and long time friend.  
\- Born in July of 1980.  
** Keeps walls up so nothing else can hurt her. _  
  
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>  
  


_We both started off in the same place._

Peace. Have you ever known the true meaning of peace?

No one in her family had served, so Delaney Anne Chrysler was completely baffled at what had prompted her to enlist. But she did anyway, beside her life time best friend Mckenna Burns, who had former military background through her father and grandfather. Maybe it was due to her fierce desire to preserve lives instead of destroying them that found her on the scene of utter catastrophe, in the medical tents during her deployment in Iraq and Afghanistan.

It was John Reese who had gotten her through the grueling training that came with bootcamp, and the six year contract that was soon coming to an end. 

_Their squadron was gathered in the mess hall for lunch that day. It was scorching hot outside and her uniform was clinging to her like a second skin as Delaney dug into her meal. It wasn't the training that bothered her, but the lustful glances from her male comrades that always seemed to be on her. All except John Reese, who normally kept to himself when he was able._

_"You staring at John?" Mckenna commented, lightly nudging her best friend in the ribs as she followed her gaze to where John sat three tables away from her. "I'm not surprised. I knew you would be into him as soon as I saw him."_

_"You see, this is why I stay away from you and the topic of men." Delaney remarked sarcastically, grinning as the blonde stuck her tongue out in retaliation. "I was just considering going over to talk to him."_

_"You? Talking to a man? This I have to see!" Mckenna adjusted her camouflage tee shirt and tightened her long blonde ponytail before tightly crossing her arms over her chest. "Go on, Miss Chrysler." Delaney swallowed thickly and stood to her feet, pushing past the whistling men as her eyes settled on John, who looked more than stunned that she was approaching him._

_"Hey John! You get yourself that tail!"_

_Delaney slowly turned to the owner of the voice - a thin man not much younger then herself with brown hair and emerald eyes and mousy features to accompany him. She cocked a hip and wrinkled her nose as his tongue darted out to lick at his cracked lips. "I am not a piece of tail. I am not a prize to be won." She snapped angrily, reflexively curling her fists at her sides. John took note of her tense body language and stood to his feet, slowly inching up behind her to pull her backwards when she finally snapped. "I am a woman. I am your_ comrade _and I am devoting my life to my country just like you are. So get over your petty teenage ego and start acting like a man."_

_"What would you know about men?! No man will ever want someone like you. You have nothing to offer!"_

_Her eyes lit up with anger and John took that as his cue to step in, tightly wrapping his arms through hers and dragging her to the other side of the cafeteria. Despite the distance, Mckenna was still calmly watching the exchange between John and Delaney with eager eyes. "He does that to a lot of the women here. I'm sorry you're just another victim of it." John said, releasing her from his grasps and extending his hand. "John Reese."_

_Delaney huffed and lifted her eyes to meet his own. They were still the most stunning pair of blue eyes she'd ever come across - crystal clear with flecks of green embedded deep near the irises. "Delaney Chrysler. I think you and I are going to make good friends, Mr. Reese."_

_"They were wrong, by the way."_

_"About what?"_

_His eyes flickered up and down her body before he ran a hand through his sweat slicked hair and smiled. "You. Someone will fall in love with you, Delaney. Despite what they say, you don't need to listen to them. You're stunning."_

It was that first exchange that had tied her to John, in an deeply intimate way she had never experienced before. Their relationship blossomed through their basic training and officer candidate years, and continued to grow when the three of them were deployed to Iraq together in the early 2000s. John served on the front lines. McKenna liked to think she was a foot soldier, the best sharpshooter in their brigade. The only problem with her skill set was that despite her skill with firearms, women were not allowed to serve as footsoldiers. 

So she went out acting as a medic, with the skills to be a highly trained soldier. 

But Delaney Chrysler served as a field medic. The real story, the _very_ beginning of The Lady In Red started in a medic tent in Afghanistan, when John Reese took two GSWs to the chest in order to save one of his best friends from an ultimately painful death. 

_"Talk to me!" Delaney exclaimed, throwing her unkempt French braid behind her shoulders as more men filed into the medical tent with soldiers who were mortally wounded. She'd been up to her elbows in blood most of the afternoon, and she hadn't seen McKenna or John come back from the front lines yet. "What happened out there? You all look like you went through hell!"_

_"It-It was hell. We were trekking through a minefield when we were ambushed. Luckily enough it was just the beginning of it, but I-I've never seen a body explode. There was nothing left but dust." Mckenna's voice broke off as she jogged into the tent and leaned against one of the spare gurneys. The brunette gazed at her best friend with concerned brown eyes as she struggled to regain what breath she had lost. "Before you start screaming, you need to know that he did it for me."_

_"Did-Did what? Who did what?"_

_"John took two bullets in order for me to stay alive." She snapped. Delaney exhaled sharply as she turned back to the mouth of the tent, meeting the eyes of her commanding officer who was instructing a larger gurney inside. Her eyes widened as she recognized his face almost instantly, most of his sharp features hidden by dirt and blood. "What-What can I do?"_

_Delaney pinched the bridge of her nose and slowly inhaled, desperate to block out John's cries of her name. She had been taught how to put her emotions behind her in a situation such as this one, but seeing John on that gurney had set something alight deep within her. She never wanted him to be hurt under her watch again. "Morphine." She commanded, retying her surgical apron around her waist. "I'm gonna need a ton of morphine for him." John gripped her wrist with fingers of steel, pulling her so far over the gurney that their faces were mere inches apart. "You-You saved her. I don't know what to say."_

_"S-Save me." He rasped, guiding her hand to apply pressure on his worst wound. "I-I'm not ready to die."_

_Soft laughter broke past her lips as she tapped John's arm for the vein, slowly inserting the needle into his skin as Mckenna readied the lead doctor's medical tray to prepare for surgery. ''You think two gunshots are gonna convince me to just let you die?" Delaney mused. "You're far too good to me for me to let you go, John. If you die on this table, I'm coming to haunt you in the afterlife." His cerulean blue eyes softened as she leaned forward and ran her fingers through his hair, his eyelids becoming increasingly heavy as the drug pumped through his bloodstream._

The moments following John falling asleep were the most terrifying in her entire military career - she'd been forced to remove the bullets without any of the other medics to help her, thus leaving her with the split second decision of having Mckenna as her second pair of eyes and hands. 

_There was blood everywhere. She hadn't even known human bodies could hold so much blood until she was stitching up the arteries that had been nicked after removing John's bullets. Now, two slick bullets to an AK-47 were discarded in the basin opposite of her right arm. "I can't believe I just watched you single handedly save John Reese's life with a scalpel and thread." Mckenna breathed, taking her penlight and examining John's pupils beneath his eyelids. "That... That was incredible."_

_"Best friends of twenty something years and you still have no faith in my skills, Mckenna Burns." She retorted, grinning widely when the blonde snickered under her breath. "I can amaze you with just my hands, so don't underestimate my capabilities. Far too many people have done it in the past. Never again."_

The only praise she'd received, after John had woken up, was from the lead medic in her brigade, who applauded her calm approach to the never ending detached limbs and blood.

_"You took it upon yourself to save every man that came through here, and the majority of them made it." Doctor Phillips commended, clasping her on the shoulder and turning back to examine his remaining patients inside of the tent. "You're a hero, Captain Chrysler."_

John had recovered nicely after the strenuous surgery - even going as far as to return to the lines when he was fully healed. His resilience and determination were few of the many reasons she'd fallen in love with him to begin with. The only problem with falling for a man like John Reese was that his heart belonged to another - one Jessica Arndt, who was the complete opposite of everything she was. 

_Why would he fall in love with a woman like me?_

"Captain Chrysler. You're being requested." Six years between Iraq and Afghanistan, minimal leave and countless losses, and the world was still on her side as Mckenna hid the tequila bottle underneath her bed and watched her best friend leave their shared quarters. Alcohol had been a constant companion for the both of them since boot camp, and the antidote to the constant nightmares that plagued her every night. 

She was led through a series of hallways inside the largest building on the base, until Delaney was stopped in front of an open door, where she could see John's figure standing tall in front of her. "Delaney Chrysler, it's a pleasure to meet you." An older African American gentleman called out, gesturing for her to come inside. "John has spoken very highly of you."

"I'm very honored to be speaking to you, Mr-"

"Beale. Terrence Beale." He replied. Beale leaned backward in his chair and folded his hands on his lap as he studied the two of them, his eyes cold and calculating. "Your CO speaks very highly of both of you. Chrysler being the best medic in your brigade, Burns displays remarkable talent in hand to hand combat and excels in any type of weaponry. I was told you saved John's life here, on a number of occasions." 

"I did, sir. Took two bullets from an AK-47 out of his chest nearly a year ago now. We're into our sixth year of our contracts with the military." She replied. Despite the fact that Beale was clearly higher up and most likely looking to recruit them, she couldn't find it in her to look the other man in the eye confidently. His powerful presence was enough to make her anxious and want to shrink back in her chair, but it was John's penetrating blue gaze through his peripheral vision that kept her linked to the conversation. 

"That's precisely why I am here, Captain. I want to offer you both positions in the CIA. You'll have the standard training just as everyone else does, but I do not give this lightly. You are the best and I want to make you into the best you can be. Medic or soldier, hacker or spy. You _will_ be the greatest CIA agents the United States has ever seen." 

There was a minimal amount of time before their contracts were up. The military had _made_ John Reese the man he was, but it had only further strengthened her deep connection to the least of these, the people in the world who were in desperate need of someone to save their lives and not destroy them. 

"I think a celebration is in order." John proclaimed, throwing open the door to her quarters. Her jaw dropped when Mckenna too held up a file labeled _Central Intelligence Agency_ and widely grinned as she poured out three shots of tequila. "Who ever would have imagined that the three of us would be recruited into something like this? This... this is the start of the rest of our lives." 

"That's one might good toast. I'll drink to it." 

No one knew that the CIA would ultimately tear the three of them apart for good; that what was supposed to be the beginning was very much in fact the end of something that had the potential to be tragically beautiful. This is the story you have been waiting to hear- what happened to them? And more importantly, how did they have the strength to survive all they had been through?

_And when he gets to Heaven_

_Saint Peter he will tell;_

_"Just another soldier reporting, sir, I've spent my time in Hell."_

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I had to completely rewrite this in order for any of the story line to make sense. Someone on here gave me thorough information on how ranking in the Military works and I wanted most of this to be as realistic as possible, so it brought a new chapter. I hope you guys still enjoyed it because it won't change the course of the story. I'll just have to do more tweaking.


	2. He's Just Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Reese disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a former fanfiction I wrote on another website that I'm planning on deleting my account on. Regardless, it will be uploaded in its entirety and I hope you enjoy it. :)

Three weeks. Three long, agonizing weeks since she'd reintegrated herself back into civilian life, moving in temporarily with her mother and father, before she went to DC for her the beginning of her training for the CIA. Three weeks without any contact from John whatsoever, and it was driving her insane to think about the fact he was most likely looking into Jessica, even though he'd clearly broken things off with her. 

Around the middle of August, Delaney stood outside during her family reunion in Central Park when her phone began to vibrate, flashing a New York number she didn't recognize. Furrowing her eyebrows, she turned away from her sister to answer the call. "Hello?" 

"Yes, is this Delaney Chrysler?" The voice sounded young and female, concern dripping from the tone that she carried. Pursing her lips, Delaney continued to wander away from her family to a more secluded area of the park where no one could interrupt her. “My name is Jessica Arndt." The brunette froze at the familiar name, her mind immediately assuming the worst about John. "John Reese told me if I needed help to call this number. I think it's him that needs help instead of me." 

"When was the last time you saw John, Jessica?" 

"He came over here a week ago to check on me, and it infuriated my husband. I just want to get a warning out to him to not show up again. He cares so much... but I'm not his burden anymore. John tends to carry the weight of problems that aren't his own." 

"Do you need help?" 

A masculine yell sounded through the other side of the phone, and Delaney vaguely heard Jessica curse underneath her breath. "Well, if I do, I'll be sure to call you first. Thank you for your time, Miss Chrysler." The line went dead, and Delaney slid her phone into her pocket just as her youngest niece Marissa came running towards her, arms open wide as she jumped into her aunts arms. 

"Mar? What's up kid?" Delaney mused, ruffling the little girls hair. Marissa was Mark and Samantha's only daughter who at the mere age of five, was one of the most intelligent children she had ever met. "Marissa?"

"There's a handsome man over there!" Marissa exclaimed, pointing a chubby finger in the direction of the swings. Delaney's amber colored eyes shifted over to the swing set, where a tall man dressed in a suit stood leaning against the support beam. She could recognize those haunted blue eyes from miles away. "He said he wanted to speak to you." 

Her heart slowly climbed into her throat as Delaney nodded, gently pushing the little girl in the direction of the other children as she began walking towards the swing set. It had been three months since she'd seen John's smile, or those beautiful blue eyes that never seemed to leave her memory. The mere fact that he had managed to find her inside Central Park at her family reunion, picking the most secluded place to meet, meant he hadn't let his guard down since coming back to New York. "Well, if it isn't the Lady in Red herself, Delaney Chrysler." 

John Reese was pumping his legs back and forth on the tallest swing, his tormented cerulean eyes never leaving her own. Since she'd last seen him he'd grown a scruff which made his thin lips almost fuller. "And if it isn't the ghost himself, Jonathan Reese. I like the beard on you, but it kind of screams social recluse. Where have you been, handsome?" 

"Getting the closure I need." 

"By stalking Jessica? You've got to put that behind you, John. I've got an unopened bottle of scotch at my place, if you want me to dig it out." He slowed his pace, stepping off the swing and enveloping her wrist in his hands. Her bones felt fragile underneath his touch as John pressed his thumb against her pulse, smirking as her heart rate elevated. "The Lady in Red? Is that what you all called me when we were deployed? Because I was constantly bathed in blood? Isn't that a bit... I don't know... morbid?" 

"I missed you, Del." He murmured quietly, lifting her hand to his lips and brushing them against the back of her hand. A shiver ran down her spine as she leaned into his touch and rested her head against his chest. "I had Jessica call you because she needed a confidant. I wanted her to know that there was someone in the world she could trust. The one person I trust more than anyone else."

"Don't even think about trying to push me out now, John. We've been through far too much for you to just give up, and if you even think about leaving me, I'll kick you off the highest building in Manhattan and laugh while you fall."

His cold fingers cradled her jaw as he pressed his lips against her own in a short, sweet kiss. Delaney melted in his embrace, whimpering softly as he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry- I can't do this. Not to you." Her heart sank as John took a step into the shadows, unshed tears in his eyes. She wasn't the first one he'd left behind in the dust while he just ran away, ran back to greet his demons. "I'll see you soon, okay? There's only a few more days before we go to DC." 

"Do you not understand how to feel, John?" She stated bluntly. Delaney shook her head, her gaze falling to the ground as John swallowed uncomfortably. "How to let people help fix your heart? I thought I'd started to do that, to help you heal from what you've lost... but now you're just fading away again." His face remained vacant as Delaney turned back towards her family reunion, where the sun was just beginning to set over the trees. 

Peace. 

She felt no peace. 

As she walked back over to her family, Delaney caught sight of her best friend Mckenna talking to her sister, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and her blue eyes shining with a happiness Delaney had not seen in a long time. It was genuine, unbridled happiness. The kind she'd had whenever she'd been with John in bootcamp and in the bar on the Virginia base.

How she missed that happiness. 

\---

The CIA Training - 4 weeks after leaving the Army (2008)

There were no tearful goodbyes from the Chryslers as they sent Delaney and Mckenna Burns to Washington D.C for their preliminary FBI training accompanied by their comrade John Reese. "Are you still pining over John?" Mckenna mused, lightly nudging her friend in the ribs as their new captain, 30 year old Henry Cartwright led them to their new living quarters to drop their personal belongings off. "You can't tell me that you don't think he's in love with you, Del. That man breathes for you." 

"That man is nothing but a shell." 

"Are you afraid of him?" 

The breath left her lungs as they stopped in front of the gym where John was standing, wearing a muscle shirt that clung to his toned figure and sweatpants that hung on his narrow hips. He looked up from where he was facing his instructor, his heart stopped as Delaney met his eyes before they turned the hall towards their quarters. "Am I afraid of John, Mckenna? No. What I'm afraid of is falling harder then I already have. Do I want to lose my soul to a man who already gave his up?" 

Mckenna snorted as the two of them changed into their training clothes, tossing their previous outfits onto the made beds. "Yeah, you're totally head over heels for Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious. Don't try to convince me otherwise. Are you ready to get your act together and fight like the woman of steel you are?" As the heavy double doors opened and the two women entered the gym, Delaney couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as John motioned for her to stand by him. 

"As ready as I'll ever be." 

As expected, the opening course for their training was rigorous and exhausting. By the time the instructor had given the option to stay or clear out to the showers, Delaney found herself standing in front of John, her body rigid and her hands fisted in front of her. "I don't think I've fought with you since bootcamp. Do you remember how I took you down?" 

"Yeah... and then you got flustered because I did this." John narrowly dodged a punch to his abdomen, gripping Delaneys wrist in his hand as she kicked his legs out beneath him and wrenched herself out of his grasp. Smirking, she knelt and put her knee to his chest, tilting her head sideways. "You think this is bad? We're just getting started here, handsome." 

<><><><><><><><><><><>

I'm not really going to go into ALL of their CIA training because there's ALOT to how the Academy works. It's basically like the police academy on steroids. So there'll be some key points in their relationship while in the CIA in the next chapter. Trust me... It'll get alot more interesting once the show starts.


	3. PLAYLIST

So... A new thing I started doing several months ago was a playlist for every fanfiction I did from that point on. And just like the others, the playlist will be pieced together throughout the course of the fanfiction. To start, here are songs that go with the ship Jelaney. 

1\. In My Veins- Andrew Belle  
2\. Behind Blue Eyes- The Who  
3\. Please Don't Go - Barcelona  
4\. Jericho- Celldweller  
5\. Hurt- Johnny Cash  
6\. I'm So Sorry- Imagine Dragons  
7\. End of All Days- Thirty Seconds To Mars  
8\. Hurricane- Thirty Seconds To Mars  
9\. We Built This House On Memories - Panic! At The Disco  
10\. Paralyzed- NF   
11\. Into The Fire- Erin McCarley


	4. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A goodbye that should not have been final.

**_A month before London_**  
  
"Del? You said you wanted to talk to me?"  
  
Delaney ran a hand through her neatly trimmed brown hair, courtesy of Mckenna, as she turned towards the door. Her muscles ached from the extensive training she'd been doing with her best friend, but the more she did, the more lethal she became. Her heart swelled at the sight of John standing in front of her. His hair was neatly combed back, revealing his cold, calculating blue eyes. Those eyes she'd come to get lost in so many times over the past months. "It's important, John. You have to be willing to listen to what I have to say."  
  
"I'm always willing to listen to you, Delaney. What is this really about?"  
  
The old John would have flinched when she slammed her hand on the bedside table, but John did nothing but stare vacantly. " _You_ haven't been talking to me since you were partnered with Kara, John. That woman is out to get me, pull you _away_ from me, and it makes me sick. I-" John tilted his head as her voice cracked, revealing the real vulnerability beneath the hard, emotionless face Delaney was constantly wearing. He took a step forward, wrapping his fingers around her wrist to pull her against him.  
  
"Don't stop now. Talk to me."  
  
The brunette woman took a deep breath, pressing her nose against Johns chest. Her instructors words rang out clear in her mind as John cupped the back of her head, running his fingers through her tangled brown locks. _This is the John you fell in love with. "_ John... I have feelings for you. I didn't want to act on them when I finally realized it, but I think Kara's intention is to tear us apart so you can be the CIA agent that _she_ wants you to be. You've been my best friend for years, and I didn't want to tear apart what friendship we've made because you mean so much to me-"  
  
"You aren't afraid of me?" He whispered reluctantly, tilting her chin upwards so they were looking at one another. Her hands slid to the buttons of his white dress shirt, toying with the fabric before he spoke again. "My past... The people I've killed. None of that bothers you?"  
  
"There's nothing you could tell me that would make me run from you, John. We've been through so much together, the man you are doesn't scare me. It's what I see coming that scares me." She whispered. Before Delaney could continue, John cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against her own. Her heart stopped at the feeling of Johns hands on her body, and before Delaney could react, he had deepened the kiss enough to push her against the wall of the living quarters. Her brain went into overdrive as Delaney untucked his shirt from the dress pants he wore and rested her hands against his warm, stretched skin that spread over his torso. "What are we going to do about this, Mr. Reese?"   
  
"Are you willing to wait for me?"  
  
She exhaled heavily, struggling against his firm grip as Johns eyes glimmered mischievously. Delaney had been waiting years to make something of the peculiar friendship she'd formed with the other man, but her insecurity of never being good enough had gotten in the way, and then Kara Stanton had snatched him away. The John she _knew_ like the back of her hand. "It's not someone like you, John. I'm willing to wait for you because I _care._ I've committed too much sin to get the fairytale life I've wanted since I was a little girl, but not every life has a happy ending. I will wait for you because I want to."  
  
Mckenna whistled as she walked through the hall towards Delaneys quarters, passing an irritated Kara Stanton dressed in her workout clothing pacing the gym, waiting for John to join her for their cardio training. "I bet Mr. and Mrs. Reese have finally-" A gasp escaped her lips as the blonde woman opened the door, snickering as she surveyed John straddling Delaney who was laughing so hard that tears were running down her face. "Made up. Wow do you two move fast. Can I make a personal request? I'm really not the girl who wants to see sex on my bedroom floor."  
  
All three burst into laughter at Mckennas crude comment, collapsing beside one another trying to regain the breath they'd lost. "I missed us being able to be stupid," Delaney murmured, sighing as she rested her head on Johns stomach. His fingers absentmindedly ran through her hair as Mckenna watched them, her cupids bow lips turned upward into a smile. "Why do we have to change? Why did we _have_ to become killers?"  
  
"We're just three normal adults from New York who joined the Army to protect the country we love. That's more of an answered prayer then a sin, my dearest Delaney." Mckenna murmured, mostly to herself as she reached underneath her bed. Her eyes locked with John as he dipped his head down and rested his forehead against the top of Delaneys head. The smell of bourbon filled the room as three shot glasses were distributed, and Mckenna rose her glass into the air. "To us. To what is coming, and to our future, whether or not it be dark or bright."  
  
That night, a promise was signed as three CIA agents took a drink, a open welcome to death, and the world began to fade away _piece by piece._


	5. The Week Her World Fell Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Losses which hurt her.

**_Monday_**  
  
"You know Del, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."  
  
"If you call me glaring at Kara for downtalking you _jealous,_ you've got that terminology completely wrong. Think of it more as... Overprotective. Which I have been of you since the day we met." Both agents pulled off their protective headsets, peering through the glass to see if their bullets had marked the paper targets hung at the opposite side of the room. John groaned when he realized Delaney had won their competition; having four of the five bullets hit the bulls eye. He'd missed by one bullet. "Oh look, I won. Again."  
  
"You always were the better marksman anyway, but I'll beat you. One day." She grinned at the twinkle in his eyes as John glanced around the room, then pulled her into a sweet kiss as soon as he was aware there was no one around. It was rare for him to show any sort of affection when Kara was around, and to know he had to put on a facade to please her made Delaney sick at the thought. "What are you thinking about?"  
  
"What happens on Wednesday." She murmured, resting her head against his chest to listen to his strong heartbeat. It was always reassuring to hear it; the thready, rhythmical pulse of his heart to remind her that John Reese was still very much alive, and still fighting every waking moment. "I have a bad feeling about this mission, John. Like inside my head, I know someone is going to die. I just don't know who."  
  
"It's just a mission, Del. You've been on plenty of smaller ops and aced those. Besides," John picked up her hand and placed it against his own, which was considerably larger in size. Her heart melted when he curled his fingers around her own and kissed the bridge of her knuckles. "If you close this successfully, we'll be together all the time working missions. It'll give me more time to think of ways to kick you into next week,"

"Keep downtalking me and you'll wake up chained to your bed."  
  
 ** _Wednesday_**  
  
"I'll bring her back to you in one piece, Reese. Just try not to miss her too much." Mckenna mused, slinging the duffel bag over her shoulder that contained the weapons spread between her and Delaney. John was standing in the hangar with his arms crossed behind his chest, his blue eyes gazing at his best friends as they transported their baggage onto the car that would take them to an flight that left for London that night. "Say your tearful goodbyes, Del."  
  
Delaney turned towards the hangar door where her commanding officer and John were standing, both men watching intently as she took long strides towards John, standing on her tiptoes and throwing her arms around his neck. In that moment as the world froze, letting her memorize the image of the man she'd fallen in love with. If she came back after this mission, came back to what she loved doing, nothing would be the same. " _Wait for me, John Reese._ "  
  
His eyes widened as she placed something small into his palm, meeting his gaze one last time before she picked up the pace and followed Mckenna to the SUV. As it peeled out of the parking lot, John opened his palm and twisted the silver mens ring around between his fingers, his lips turning upward in a small smile. "I'll always wait for you, Delaney Anne."  
  
" _Where'd the ring come from sweetheart?" Delaney had just returned from a small op down in Russia, which had been the beginning of her tests that would lead her into the much bigger missions all over the world. While in Russia, she'd come across a small ring store where their perpetrator had been, and had snatched the ring before she shot the store owner in the head.  
  
"You're probably looking for the typical sentimental story that every other girl fawns about. From an old lover or my father, but the problem is, my father was rarely there as a kid, and I never had a high school lover. All of my relationships burned when I went into the Army." John caught the ring in the palm of his hand, running the tip of his finger over the engraving. "But this isn't a fairytale John. This is me making a promise." _  
  
**עד שנפגשנו שוב, אהוב.  
  
**_"What does the engraving mean?"  
  
Delaney snorted lightly, taking his hand in her own and twisting the ring onto his ring finger. "I'm surprised Miss Stanton hasn't got you learning Hebrew yet, but I should've expected better. It says, 'Until we meet again, my beloved.'''_  
  
 **Thursday (Still in 2009)**  
  
Delaney leaned against the table as her fingers sped furiously across the laptop keys, securing their transportation and cover to infiltrate the building where they would gather their intel. After a rather tedious flight over to London, they'd procured a small hotel room not far from where their mission was to take place, writing out a plan of what they were to do the next night in regards to taking down the leader of a trafficking ring they'd been sent to disband. "You thinking about tall, dark and handsome? Or are you just trying to impress me with your hacking skills? You're welcome for that by the way."  
  
Mckenna was sitting cross legged in front of her, sipping at a glass of vodka as she meticulously read over the case file of Joshua Black, an ex convict from Scotland who had a rap sheet a mile long, starting with drug abuse and working his way up to murder in the second degree. He had only just recently been released from prison, and was the suspected leader of their trafficking ring centralized in London. "I'd rather be there then here, Ken. I don't want to fail this test. If I pass... I get to work with John, and quite frankly, that's what my heart wants."  
  
"I already made a promise to John to get the two of you back together, Delaney. We gather the intel at the ball, we take out the leader. I'll have you back together by Monday." She spoke confidently. Delaney pursed her lips, her fingers hovering over the keys as she stared at the mugshot of Joshua taken by Scotland Yard. She had been on plenty of smaller ops to know what a man with no conviction, no compassion, no care for other peoples lives looked like. When she looked into Joshuas eyes, she saw nothing but contempt and hatred for the world around him. "What's really bothering you, Del?"  
  
"Do you ever wonder why humans feel pain?" She whispered, lifting her eyes to meet Mckennas bright green eyes staring back at her. "We're born into a world where everything and everyone dies, and pain is unevitable. What I'm thinking right now, is that one of us will be buried so deep in our pain that the world will fall apart. I just don't know who it is we're losing. The thought terrifies me."  
  
Mckenna took a deep breath, her vision hazy from the consumption of alcohol as she leaned forward and rested her hand on top of Delaneys. The two women looked at each other before she spoke. "You're too important for the world to lose, Delaney Anne. I made a promise to a broken hearted man in D.C that I would get the love of his life home, and that's exactly what I intend to do."  
  
 **Friday**  
  
Delaney adjusted her position on the swivel chair in front of the bar, her amber eyes keeping a close watch as Mckenna exchanged words during a dance with Joshua Black. The trafficking rings leaders and accomplices were scheduled to be at the charity ball that evening, and Mckenna had so far successfully seduced the leader into giving her exactly what she wanted. She constantly reran over the words that Joshuas right hand man Oscar had told her, about where their ring was located and how many girls were apart of it.  
  
A warmth spread throughout her heart as she witnessed the couples mingle together on the dance floor, the tranquil sound of a flute from the band emanating through the room as a slow dance began to commence. She imagined herself with John on the dance floor, dressed in the most elegant clothes, dancing the night away, so lost in one another that nothing else mattered. "Did you get what you were looking for?"   
  
Mckenna took her seat at the bar, crossing her legs as she ordered a martini from the bartender. She ran her free hand over her navy blue gown, running the pad of her thumb under each eye to collect the dust of the eyeshadow she wore. "The next girl they're planning to take is Jocelyn Price, the daughter of Marcus Price, who's hosting the ball. She's young, probably about twenty five, blonde hair, blue eyes. We have to do this out of the sight of civilians. If we follow Black after this is over, we rescue the girl and off his party later. Simple."   
  
Around midnight, the two women ventured into the street as Joshua grabbed two of his men, carefully following Jocelyn and her friend in the shadows as they walked towards the muscle car at the end of the street. Multiple gunshots rang out, causing Mckenna to freeze in the middle of reloading her own gun. "Where did the shots come from?!" Delaney hissed, turning to duck behind the back of the car. It was difficult to make out any possible enemies in the shadows, but she swore she saw the muscular form of a woman duck out of sight on the opposite side of the street.   
  
"He must've figured it out."  
  
Both women shot up as a female scream rang out, and Joshua appeared a hundred yards down the street, the barrel of his gun pressed against Jocelyns head. His men were no where to be seen. "I must've figured it out? You're telling me. My man Oscar gave both of you up in minutes. I should've known two women like you were special ops CIA agents." He taunted, smirking as Jocelyn writhed in his grasps. "You think you're going to stop me?"   
  
"I know I'm going to stop you, douchebag." Delaney snarled. She fired an individual shot to Joshuas head, but not before he fired his gun in sync with hers, his bullet aimed right for her heart. Her blood ran cold as Mckenna jumped directly in front of her, using her own body as a shield to keep the stray bullet from hitting its mark. _I made a promise to a broken hearted man that I would get you home safe._ "Mckenna!"   
  
The fallen agent grimaced as she sunk to her knees, her eyes wide with shock as she pulled her reddened hands away from her stomach, now trembling from blood loss and the newfound fear of deatj coursing through her veins. Their plan to rescue Jocelyn was hopeless as she backed away from the murder scene, fleeing down the street and out of their line of sight. "I win." She felt no remorse as the crime leader fell in a heap on the concrete, chest unmoving and eyes wide open. A guttural, anguished sob escaped Delaneys mouth as she cradled Mckenna in her arms and rocked back and forth. "Del- _don't_ -"  
  
"You are _so_ stupid. I should've- I should've known you were the one who was going to take a bullet for me! Why are you such an idiot?" Delaney murmured, running her fingers through Mckennas blonde hair, now matted with her own blood. "You weren't supposed to take a bullet for me, Mckenna! That's not what we do! You're too important for the world to lose!"  
  
Mckenna merely smiled up at the woman who had been her best friend, taking her finger and pointing directly at Delaneys heart. " _I-I made a-a promise._ " She whispered, gasping as the world began to fade away, and it became increasingly difficult to breathe. Tears fell onto her cheeks as Delaney gripped her hand, ignoring the stickiness that now covered her own. "Tell John- _"_  
  
With a silent, painful gasp, Delaney Chrysler watched in horror as Mckenna Burns died in her arms, her head lolling against her chest as Big Ben tolled midnight in the distance. She let out a forced, angry scream, tears running down her face as she cradled her closest friend to her one last time, the blue and red flashes of sirens lurking behind her eyelids as they placed the fallen agent in a body bag.  
  
It was time for Delaney Chrysler to disappear.  
  
<><><><><><><>  
  
 **Washington D.C.**  
  
"It is with my deepest condolences we gather here to mourn the loss of Mckenna Burns, one of our top Spec Ops agents. Burns graduated from the Academy in late 2008 with Agent Reese and Chrysler, who was also with Burns at the time of her unfortunate death. The whereabouts of Chrysler is unknown, but we lost two great agents who gave their lives to protect their country. May God Bless them and their families this day."  
  
The small group of Spec Ops agents and new recruits fled the scene of the memorial, leaving John to gaze at the canvas photos of Mckenna and Delaney by the empty caskets. The Burns family has specifically asked for their daughters body to be returned to New York, and nobody knew about Delaney or where she had gone. Delaney had been right. Both of the most important people in Johns life, gone. Just like that.  


" _I'll get her back to you in one piece, John_."  
  
"I told you people were a liability, Reese. It's good that Chrysler is dead."  
  
Fueled by unbridled fury and grief over losing his closest friends, John whipped around and punched Kara Stanton in the stomach, gripping her brown locks as he shoved her body against the wall. It had been two weeks since Delaney and Mckenna had been compromised and Kara hadn't stopped speaking since the news had come into HQ. Kara smirked at John as he grit his teeth, digging his nails deep enough to draw blood from Karas wrists. "What do you know, Kara? Just because I'm a killer doesn't mean I can't feel emotion, which you seem to lack."  
  
"I was wrong about you. You _do_ have too much to lose. Do you know why Beale picked you, John? Because you're good at what you do. Like I said, Chrysler was a liability. Now you can be what you've been trained to be." Karas eyes twinkled as she lifted her head, her eyes just inches away from Johns. "A ruthless killer."  
  
 **Saturday - New York City**  
  
Her bones ached, the deepest parts of her skull were pounded upon like a drum, and Delaney Chrysler wanted nothing more then to crawl into a hole and die along with Mckenna Burns. She wanted nothing more then to go back to what she loved, _who_ she loved.. But the CIA had successfully ruined her life. Now Kara had John, and Delaney had nothing but her own thoughts and the bottle of tequila waiting for her inside the bar.  
  
She squinted as light flooded the room, accompanied by the smell of musk and the chatter of drunk men and women. Her body collapsed at the bar as the bartender, a woman in her early twenties, slid a glass of whiskey in her direction. "The woman at the end of the bar said this was on the house." The bartender spoke, her voice hoarse as she motioned towards another woman sitting alone two stools down from her. She was fairly tall with her stiletto pumps, accompanied by a red dress that clung to her curves, her brown eyes scanning the area for any source of threat. Given the modesty, it was clear she hadn't come to the bar looking for a one night fling.  
  
"You look like a woman who's lost everything she's ever known. I thought a drink on the house would make you feel better." Delaney dipped her head towards her chest, avoiding the look the other woman gave her. People pitied her all the time and it made her stomach turn at the thought. She shouldn't be pitied for the sins she'd committed. "My name's Zoe Morgan. I'm a freelancer who tends to clean up other peoples messes, and judging from the way you carry yourself.. I'd say you're former military. Army?"  
  
Zoe smiled as Delaney nodded, downing her tequila in one swallow. "You're good at reading people, Miss Morgan." Delaney muttered. It had been a long time since someone has been able to read her that well, and it set her slightly on edge that Zoe could see all that within a span of five minutes and a shot of whiskey. "Is there something you want? I'd like to wallow in my misery, if you don't mind."  
  
"If you're willing, I think we could become good friends." Delaney lifted her head as Zoe slid a business card in her direction, standing from her chair as she finished her last drink. "Because here's the thing, Delaney. I suck at letting people in, and you're obviously grieving somebody you lost.. So that means you don't let alot of people in either. Maybe us working together can change that. Until we meet again, Miss Chrysler. Enjoy your whiskey."  
  
As the bartender began to wind down for the night and people began to leave, Delaney reread the business card in front of her and placed her head in her hands. If she was going to retire from the CIA, she was going to need a job. And who better then someone who understood the pain of loss?  
  
 _Zoe Morgan  
Freelancer ; Can clean up any mess.  
Discussion of proper payment upon arrival.  
xxx-xxx-xxxx_


	6. Jessica

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica loses her life.

_The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living._

**December 2010**  
  
Even before enlisting in the Army, clubs had never really been a safe haven for Delaney. Many people lost their tension at clubs, choosing to drown themselves in liquor and dance until their body could no longer hold them upright. The only reason why she was there to begin with was because of the woman in front of her, who had become her closest friend in a matter of months. "Del, look. We're in a club." Zoe Morgan chided, pressing her hands against the younger womans shoulders. Zoe had been working at a goal to ebb away the constant fear that coursed through Delaneys veins every time she went out in public since the two of them had begun working with one another. "You've got to let the tension in your shoulders go. I've seen you dance, so _dance like you mean it._ "  
  
The alcohol in her stomach set her body on fire as she followed Zoes request, her curls tickling her bare skin on her shoulders as her hips began to move in sync with the music. After the song had ended, Zoe led her friend back to the bar and ordered two shots of tequila, when she noticed Delaney's clutch beginning to vibrate. Delaney gulped down her shot and pulled out her phone, squinting at the caller ID on the screen.   
  
_Jessica Arndt_  
  
Her spine instantly straightened at the caller ID; One she had felt obligated to protect since the first time they'd met and she'd saved Jessica from Peter, her abusive husband. By protecting Jessica, a part of her felt like she was protecting one of the things John Reese held so dear to his heart. Like she was protecting him. It made her feel good.  
  
_"Jessica? Are you still here?" Delaney called out, tightening her ponytail as she quietly entered the Arndt household. The living room and parlor were silent, but she could hear the whimpering of a distraught female struggling to escape her husbands grasps in the kitchen. "Oh, look what the cat drug in. Get your hands off of your wife before I call the cops, Mr. Arndt."  
  
Jessica was pinned against the wall by her husband Peter, her head limp against her shoulder as she tried to hide the blossoming bruises on her jawline from Delaney. "Who the heck are you? What jurisdiction-" Jessica gasped as Peter fell unconscious to the floor, a red knot appearing on the back of his head from being knocked out by Delaney's handgun.  
  
The brunette woman threw her weapon to the side as Jessica fell straight into her embrace, tears running down her bruised face as she desperately clutched at whatever her hands could grasp firmly. "If John was here.. I don't think I could thank him enough for sending you to me." She pleaded, unaware that her tears were soaking through Delaneys shirt. But yet, the younger woman made no move to pry her away._  
  
To see she was calling so late at night set Delaney on edge as she flipped open her phone and pressed it against her ear. "Jessica?" Her voice was urgent as she leaned against the outer walls of the club, the lights from the coming and going traffic causing a splitting headache to begin at the center of her forehead. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"  
  
Ever since that call in 2009 before she had officially joined the CIA and lost John, Jessica had become a close friend and confidant. She really had John to thank for it, but it wasn't the first time she had called with a situation that had to deal with Peter. "I need to talk, Del. Peter-"  


"Don't say anything else, Jess. I'll be there as fast as I can possibly be."  
  
She could practically hear the smile in Jessicas cheeks as she gathered her things from inside the club and flagged down a taxi. "John was right about you, Del. I should've known it from the start."  


"What did John say?"

"That you had a heart to save people, not hurt them." Jessica replied quietly. "That a heart like yours could save the world. But he spoke in a way that sounded as if you were dead, and I'm not really sure why."

Minutes felt like years as the taxi drove to New Rochelle from Manhattan. Delaney felt a scream build up inside of her throat as the silver glint of Jessica's car reflected in the moonlight, nothing more than a bent piece of metal containing two bodies. Jessica was in the passenger seat, eyes closed and chest unmoving as blood trickled down her forehead. Peter was just beginning to move when Delaney threw open the taxi door and tossed money at the cabbie, claiming she would pay him extra if he chose to stay.  
  
Her heart sank when she realized that once again, for the second time in two years, she had failed to save someone who had gotten inside of her walls. John had _adored_ Jessica, loved her more then he could ever love Delaney, and she had let Jessica slip through her fingers. _And it was all Peters fault._  


"Peter!" Peter Arndt turned his head as he stumbled out of the car, vaguely recognizing Delaney Chrysler navigating her way down into the ditch. Her amber eyes were wide with anger as she gripped the lapels of his coat, forcing him against the destroyed vehicle. "You think you're going to get away with this?" A gasp escaped his throat when her nails dug into his neck, sure to leave bruises for weeks. _Just damaged goods._ "I know you killed her, Arndt. There's no way you could be in an accident ten minutes after I get off the phone with your wife. You better pray to your Lord and Savior that John Reese doesn't find you before I do. I'm going to give you the option to run. Best hop to it."

"Why would _you_ give me mercy, you CIA brat?!" Peter snarled, clutching his wounded leg as Delaney turned back towards the crest of the hill. "You've committed sins that can't be forgiven. How is mine worse then yours!?"  


"Because, unlike you, I was following orders when I was forced to kill." She replied darkly, allowing her eyes to flutter shut as the weight of her weapon in the waistband of her jeans suddenly felt like the weight of the world. One shot was all it'd take. "You killed Jessica because she reached out for help. And like I said, if John finds you, he's sure to make you disappear for good."  
  
Zoe had been sitting on the couch inside their shared apartment when Delaney came in around two o clock that morning, her clubbing dress rumpled and her hair pulled into a makeshift ponytail, like she had rushed to keep it out of her face. "Wow do you look like crap." Zoe mused, tossing a pack of makeup wipes in Delaneys direction as she collapsed on the opposite sofa. "What happened? Is your friend alright?"  
  
She immediately knew her answer once Delaney lifted her head from the pillow, her eyes bloodshot from crying and mascara smudged on her cheeks. A pang of guilt filled her heart as Zoe leaned forward and tenderly grabbed her friends hand. "She's dead, Zo. The only thing John wanted me to protect died at the hands of her abusive husband."  
  
"It's not your fault-"  
  
"But she _needed my help_! Had I gotten there ten minutes earlier, Peter wouldn't have killed Jessica!" Zoe shook her head and knelt in front of Delaney, unable to speak the words of comfort she was looking to hear. After a moment, the younger brunette couldn't help the laughter that spilled past her lips at the petrified look on Zoes. "You've never been one for words, Morgan. It's reassuring to know you aren't dead yet because of me."  
  
"As long as I'm still standing here Del, I don't think I'm going anywhere. I can't leave my protege in the dust."  
  
<><><><><><>  
  
 ** _Christmas 2010  
* Jessica's death was on December 5th._**  
  
"Good Lord. How many dresses can one woman like you _buy?_ "  
  
Zoe grinned from in front of the boutique mirror, turning back towards Delaney who was leaning against a rack of casual tea length dresses with an exasperated expression on her face. She had decided to spend the day shopping for dresses before she took Delaney out on her first official job the week after Christmas. Her journey had led them to a tiny dress shop in the corner of Manhattan, mainly inhabited by women right around their age. "You have to have the right outfit in order to do this job right, Delaney." Zoe held up a red dress and wiggled her eyebrows as she threw it in her direction. "You military women don't seem to like shopping. That's going to change."  
  
The last minute shoppers were beginning to filter in which set Delaney on edge, her eyes calculating the possibility of any threat to either her or Zoe around the perimeter. Even after a year of being out of the CIA, she couldn't seem to shake that feeling of death lurking at every corner. "I like the red one the most." She replied quickly, sipping her hot chocolate as she led Zoe to the cash register. "Red is my color. That's why they call me-"  
  
"The Lady In Red? Yeah, I know. You tend to talk in your sleep alot."  
  
Delaney laughed in disbelief as she punched Zoe in the arm, gathering her bag from the cashier and flashing a smile before venturing into the snow covered streets of Manhattan. "Not to sound offensive, but the fact you watch me sleep is kind of disturbing. I'll make sure to sleep with one eye open from now on." Zoe peered out from beneath her white beanie, ruffling her curls as they began to walk towards the intersection where most of the taxis picked up passengers.  
  
"I do have one question for you though, Del." Zoe lifted her hand, flagging down a taxi. As they slipped inside, she set her shopping bag down on the floor of the cab and told the driver the address of their apartment in uptown Manhattan. "There's one person who you constantly talk about in your sleep."  
  
"Just get it over with Zoe."  
  
" _Who's John?_ "


	7. He Returned For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John Reese makes his comeback to the world of the living.

_New York - February 2011_  
  
Most of the suburbs north of Manhattan were getaways to evade the overwhelming noise of the city. New Rochelle was quiet in February, most of its residents spending their day working to support their families or spend a quiet afternoon indoors. Less then 20 miles away from the basketball court where they would play their last game, a group of Manhattan girls boarded a bus headed for the elementary school in New Rochelle, Marissa Chrysler at the head of the line. "Find a seat and stay quiet, girls." Their coach, Ellie Greene, murmured quietly. Marissa tugged on the end of her ponytail, sitting across from an older man and clutching her duffel bag in her arms.  
  
She lifted her head when the man across from her suddenly jerked in his seat, carefully prying his stained red hand away from his dress shirt where he was applying pressure to a gaping wound in his side. Had it not been for the kind, weary blue eyes that lifted to stare back at her, Marissa would've never recognized the man who had confronted her as a five year old in her family park.   
  
" _Hi sweetheart, are you Delaneys niece?" John murmured, kneeling beside the five year old as she pumped her legs on the swing, urging herself higher. Marissa nodded and giggled as John grabbed the chains and slowly leveled her out on the hillside. "I need to speak to your aunt for a moment. Can you go get her for me?"_  
  
He had been so kind, so gentle.. She had noticed almost immediately the way Delaney allowed her safe guard down when around the older man. Even when she was watching him leave, Marissa knew by the longing in her aunts dark brown eyes that she cared more about the handsome man then Delaney cared to admit.  
  
"Hey sir, are you alright? What happened to you?"  
  
John wouldn't have recognized Marissa if it hadn't been for the striking brown eyes of which she mirrored her aunt, who was one of two reasons he had returned to New York from Ordos after the incident with Kara. "I think I quit my job, Marissa. That is your name right?" Before the younger girl could respond, the bus lurched to a stop in front of a block of houses, and John slowly stood to his feet. "Tell your aunt Del I miss her, would you?"  
  
She nodded and watched as he exited the bus, making a beeline for a house across the street which he quietly slipped inside. Marissas heart began to pound as she tapped her coach on the shoulder, anxious to call her aunt and inform her of what she'd witnessed. "Mrs. Greene, may I borrow your cellphone? I need to call my aunt." Marissa said urgently, outstretching her hand for her coaches cellphone.  
  
Noticing the discomfort and fear in the younger girls eyes, Ellie immediately consented and pulled her IPhone from the back pocket of her jeans. "Are you alright? Just let me know if you need anything." She reassured, squeezing her players shoulder. Marissa forced a weak smile and nodded, dialing her aunts number as she stood out in the bitter cold watching the older girls filter inside the school for the basketball game against New Rochelle.  
  
In Manhattan, Delaney and Zoe were preparing for a night job when the phone began to ring, blasting _Hurt By Johnny Cash_ through the speakers. "Well, if you're going to pick a ringtone, pick one of your supposedly dead secret boyfriends favorite songs." Zoe sang, applying deep red lipstick to her lips as Delaney finished tying off her hair into a high ponytail. "Are you going to answer it?"  
  
"For all you know, it could be a hooker with the wrong number." Delaney fired back, grinning at her friend as she snatched up the cellphone and pressed it against her ear. "Hello, you've got The Lady In Red, otherwise known as Delaney Chrysler. May I ask who's calling?"  
  
Her blood ran cold when she recognized the sob of a young girl, no older then eight years old on the other side of the line. "Aunt D? It's Marissa. I'm in New Rochelle for my basketball game, but I need your help. I think he's going to die, and I'm scared. He doesn't deserve to die!"  
  
Marissa was still so incredibly young and naive, and she had Samantha's pure heart that Delaney only yearned to obtain for herself. "Marissa, who're you talking about? Who's going to die?" Zoe immediately noticed when Delaney's toned body went rigid, and she lost the ability to breathe as the person on the other side of the line spoke as quickly as possible.  
  
"The handsome man from the picnic when I was five! He was shot in the side, I don't know where, but he mentioned you to me! He looked..." Marissas voice faded for a moment before she spoke firmly into the phone before disconnecting the line. "Like he wanted to make somebody pay. _"_  
  
Delaney slowly lowered the phone and set it on the sofa, wide eyes regarding Zoe who sat on the floor in front of her with a makeup brush poised in her hand. "I haven't seen you look that terrified since our first job together, Del. Who was that? Was it about-"  
  
"John. John's come back to New York." She reached underneath the sofa, snatching her pistol she hid beneath the cushions and sliding it into the thigh holster beneath the dress she wore. "Sorry Zoe, but I can't let this one slide. It's been two months since the last time I heard anything about him, and I have to make sure he doesn't kill Peter. If I do, it'll ruin him for good."  
  
"The abusive husband that you claim murdered Jessica? John's ex girlfriend?"  
  
Delaney took a deep breath, her hand hovering above the doorknob. Despite the warmth flowing through the apartment they shared, she could still feel the bitter February chill seeping in through the bottom of the living room window. "I know John Reese better then I know myself." She murmured quietly. "I know his heart, and when he finds out about Jessica, I know he'll be out for revenge. I can't let another person die."  
  
"You're not supposed to come to everyones rescue, sweetheart. Some people just have to take care of themselves."  
  
She raised her head and puffed out her chest, filled with determination and the slightest hint of dread glittering in her amber eyes. "If I have anything to say about it, I only have one goal in mind on this _freezing_ day in February. I'm going to New Rochelle, and I'm going to save John. He returned for me.. The least I can do is see him."  
  
And with that she slammed the door, a genuine smile on her face for the first time in a very long time. Even though she was walking into what was quite possibly a soon to be homicide in the making, Delaney Chrysler felt peace. _And it was extraordinary._  
  
<><><><><><><><><><>  
  
In the darkness of his home, Peter Arndt lifted his head from his hands, a deep purple bruise blossoming underneath his eye as he squinted into the shadows. From the shadows emerged Delaney Chrysler, her long brown curls framing her face as she stuffed her gloved hands into her pockets of her peplum coat. "I see that John got to you first," She muttered in disbelief. "Figures. I didn't think he was sane enough to leave you alive."  
  
"Are you here to finish the job?"  
  
She froze in her place, considering her options. Being in the CIA had taught her how to get rid of a body and leave no trace behind, but she was _better_ then what they'd tried to turn her into. What they had successfully managed to turn John into. Now he was alone, wounded, and wandering the streets out for revenge. _I'm afraid he's going to die._ "No, I have something that John doesn't." Her voice dripped poison as Delaney knelt in front of the widowed man, gripping the lapels of his jacket tightly. "I have _mercy._ I'm giving you one chance to take yourself and get out of New York. Go as far away from here as possible, and do yourself a favor." He swallowed nervously as she shoved him against the loveseat, her menacing gaze just inches away from his face. " _Don't ever come back._ "  
  
The authorities arrived the next morning, dazed and confused as to the whereabouts of Jessica Arndts husband. The case was closed almost immediately, Jessicas death determined by the Medical Examiner as blunt force trauma to the head, and Peters whereabouts unknown. No one knew if he had died, but the only lead they had was a calling card that had escaped her pocket when fleeing the scene with nothing on it but a simple alias.  
  
 _The Lady In Red._


	8. The Numbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of The Machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love this show   
> i am so glad i wrote this

_The beginning of this chapter leads into 1x06, where Finch receives both Zoe and Delaneys numbers and has John look into it._

**< ><><><><><><><><><><>**

**_you took a piece of me a long time ago,_ **

**_and i've been searching in all the wrong places to get that back._**  
  
<><><><><><><><><><><>  
  
"Delaney, _stop_ complaining or I might just bust my head off of the wall." Zoe deadpanned, running her fingers through her curls as she prepared to step out of the door of their apartment. "Your car accident, which we were both in, was not my fault. That douchebag t-boned us and you just got the brunt of it. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"  
  
"Bring me home a handsome man, and I might change my mind. Just remember.. I'm the one who kills people to keep you alive. You should be considering me your guardian angel, Morgan."  
  
Zoe turned away from the mirror and eyed her best friend, who was lounging on the sofa in a pair of New York Jets pajamas with her fingers sunk into a pot of warm water to relieve her aching joints. She had gotten into a brawl with a man at the bar a week ago while Zoe was on a job trying to mend the problems of a investment banker on Wall Street who had manipulated one of the mafia dons in Manhattan. After a rather rowdy altercation, she'd gone home with bleeding hands and a flood of memories of her training in the CIA with John. "I'm going to see Slip at the docks before I deliver a present to Lieutenant Gilmore. I'll be back before you know it."  
  
"And I'll be here, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls to pass the time." She lamented. "I really need to get the urge to shoot someone out of my system." Delaney rested her head against the back of the sofa, sighing as she began to massage her temples. Zoe puckered her scarlet red lips and winked before shutting the door behind her. "Kill me _._ "  
  
She basked in the sound of the silence of the apartment, her eyelids fluttering as she began to fall into a fitful sleep, her dreams dark with old memories she never wanted to relive.  
  
"Tell me to wait for you, John Reese."   
  


_That night had been the first of many for the two of them, alone in her shared quarters with McKenna after their base was on lockdown from a nearby bomb threat. She'd pulled John aside at the first opportunity and now he was vertically hovering over top of her, his intense blue eyes just mere inches away from her own. "You are not just another somebody... I would lay down my life for you."_  
  
 _He propped himself up on his elbow, his fingers curving along her jaw before he cupped her face, smiling as she leaned into his touch. "Greater love has no man than this then he would lay down his life for his friends." John said softly, lightly pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth. She shivered at his touch, lifting her head up to allow John to kiss her more easily. "You deserve someone better then me." His voice was husky as he parted from her mouth, carefully navigating the slope of her neck with his lips. "Someone who can give you the kind of life you deserve. Love, a family, a marriage. That is what you deserve."_  
  
" _What I deserve is a man who is waiting to wait for me, someone who will love me unconditionally. And even though you believe you are undeserving, that is the man you are. And I will wait for you forever because of it."_  
  
*******************

Being in the CIA taught you two things. How to become emotionless in the face of inevitable death, and how to sleep lightly so if on the threat of an attack, the perpetrator could be terminated with ease. If she hadn't been a light sleeper around the time that Harold Finch broke into her apartment, he would've gotten away easily. That was how it all started.  
  
" _Mr. Reese, where do you keep the things that you care about?"_  
  
John huffed and leaned against the car as he watched Zoe Morgan disappear inside of the building. _"I don't have anything I care about, Finch."_  
  
Delaney yawned, stretching out to relieve the tension in her leg, cradling her knee in her hands as she rewrapped the gauze tightly around her kneecap. Her injury still ached constantly despite the angle she kept it at, and it kept her from doing what she really loved. The sound of feet shuffling against the veneer wooden floor in the kitchen rang in her ears, her hand immediately skimming the bottom of the sofa for the handgun she had stored there upon moving in.  
  
Delaney sat up on the sofa, flicking off the safety of her weapon as she watched the man rummaging underneath her cabinets and picking through her jazz records. He was no probable threat, given the limp in his leg and the gun he didn't have on his person. He was a man looking for information, for answers to unspoken questions. "The last time someone broke into my apartment, it didn't end well."  
  
Her voice was enough to startle the older man, who jumped at the realization there was someone else in the room. " _Finch? Who's the female voice?_ "  
  
The mysterious man merely smiled, shifting his weight to his good leg as he turned to greet her. "You must be Delaney Chrysler. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Harold Wren, working a job with my business associate. We were informed that you and your friends lives may be in great danger." She slowly rose an eyebrow, her brown eyes studying the suit he wore- _Expensive, but not gaudy. Not a showy type of man._ He obviously had interests in her and Zoe, but as to why, she couldn't place her finger on it. "I'm not here to hurt you, Miss Chrysler. I simply want answers."  
  
"I'm just the assassin who eliminates the threats against Zoe and I. If you want solid answers, you'll have to find her." Her gaze fell back to her lap where her handgun sat, gleaming as it had been cleaned an hour before, her exhausted reflection clear in the black metal. Silence settled into the apartment as Finch studied the woman in front of him, immediately taking notice of the way she favored her right knee. _Accident._  
  
"Were you in the military, Miss Chrysler?"  
  
Any breath in her lungs dissipated at his question, so simple but still so difficult to form an coherent answer for. It had been a long time since she'd used the skills she'd obtained in the Military then carried into the CIA. "I served in Iraq and Afghanistan as a combat medic. Best in my brigade. When I wasn't elbow deep in blood or saving lives I was defusing bombs-" A small laugh spilled past her lips and Finch couldn't help but smile. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this."  
  
"You are not nearly as hostile or abrasive as your co-worker, Miss Chrysler." His tongue darted out of his mouth, flicking at his dry lips as he waited for a window to ask his next and final question. "You mentioned saving lives. Any one in particular that was important to you?"   
  
God, now her entire body _burned_ as she bit back tears, slowly inhaling and exhaling to try and control her panicking mind, just as her therapist had instructed her to do. The world around her slowly began to fade in and out as her shaking hands crept up the length of her neck to wrap in her hair. "I-I had these friends, two of the greatest people I'd ever met in my entire life. One of them gave her life for me while on a mission in London. The other one.. He was a tortured soul, but I cared more about him then he ever knew. Mckenna Burns and John Reese."  
  
Finchs eyes widened as realization hit him in the face as to how John was connected to this particular number. Delaney Chrysler was not only a comrade of Johns from his military career, she was also the prime reason why John was still _alive._  
  
_"_ _We have two new numbers, Mr. Reese. Delaney Chrysler and Zoe Morgan. 30 and 32, both single, both unemployed. Delaney was active military, and Miss Morgan has been running a freelance business where she, as you'd say.. cleans up other peoples problems. The women have been working together since 2009 when Chrysler left the CIA." Finch looked up at his partner from in front of his multiple computers to where John was standing, absentmindedly rubbing what seemed to be an old wound on his side. "Do you have connection to either of these numbers?"  
  
John swallowed thickly, untucking his dress shirt from his pants to show Finch the three inch scar on his torso, courtesy of the bullet he'd taken on the outskirts of the minefield. He would never forget the determination in Delaney Chryslers eyes when she overcame her fear of losing him to save him from certain death. "She was a medic in my brigade and was rewarded for the amount of people she saved during active firefights. The most important one... It was me." _  
  
"Do you have any other questions for me, Mr. Wren?" Her small voice drew him out of his stupor as Finch shook his head, acutely aware of Zoes return from John in his ear. "Because Zoe will be back any minute, and if she knows I let you stay in here when I caught you breaking in, my head will go through the wall."  
  
"You'll be hearing from me again, Miss Chrysler."  
  
She stood to her feet, quietly motioning Harold out the back door as she heard a horn beep three consecutive times. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she jogged down the hall and slipped out the front door where a tall, muscular man dressed in black was letting Zoe out of the back of his car. "Be here at 10 sharp tomorrow." As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she felt her lungs exhale slowly at the man in front of her who had been driving Zoe around.  
  
The man who she'd formally thought of as a ghost stood in front of her.

John Reese stared back at Delaney Chrysler with wide sea foam colored eyes, his lips parted as the two of them met one another gaze. "Zo?" She murmured, gripping Zoes wrist in her hands. Zoes head snapped over to her, regarding her wide eyes and the labored breathing that had come upon her seeing John. _This must be the forgotten lover._ "Can you go inside? I want to speak to your driver for a minute."  
  
Her response was hesitant before she replied softly, "Yeah. I'll see what I can do about ordering Chinese food." When Zoe disappeared inside of the apartment, Delaney bounded down the steps despite her injury and stood in front of John, her hands curling and uncurling into fists at her sides.

How badly she yearned to touch him.  
  
"Please tell me I'm not dreaming." She whispered, her face just inches away from Johns. It had been so long since their last meeting, now she was seeing the repercussions of the life he'd lived since they'd parted. His eyes, once so young and thirsty for adventure were now haunted, tortured, vacant of emotion. Until he'd seen her, John Reese was sure that he'd never fall in love again. That he would never learn what truly living felt like again. "Please tell me this is real." A whimper left her lips as John grasped her hands in his, pressing the lightest of kisses upon her skin as she took yet another step closer. He inhaled sharply when her hand settled on his chest, right on top of his thrumming heartbeat.  
  
"Del," John murmured. "You're real."  
  
A smile crossed over her face as Delaney wrapped her arms around his waist, her face buried in the crook of his neck as he pulled her as humanly close to his body as he possibly could. "I told you John," She replied softly, cupping the back of his head. " _I told you I would wait for you.''_


	9. Come Away With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Machine, The Lady in Red, and a ghost.

<><><><><><><><><><><><>  
 _When did I become so numb?  
When did I lose myself?  
When did I become so cold?  
When did I become ashamed?  
\- Paralyzed  
  
** Anything in italics is Finch in Johns earpiece._  
<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"So he was your partner in the CIA? Huh, not with the way you two look at each other. He's rather good at keeping his emotions hidden. Were you ever together?"  
  
Delaney cursed underneath her breath and sat her wine down on the table, her eyes focusing on the golden _Gabriels_ lettering that occupied the front window. Both of them had finally turned their phones on, which they knew would be the perfect tracking device for John to come straight to them. "Honest to God, Zoe. Why does any of this matter? It was in the past."  
  
"You are one of the most oblivious women I have ever met in my entire life. Do you ever look around when we go out and eat together?" Zoe nudged her lightly in the arm, motioning to the tables closest to the front door. "You turn heads everywhere we go, Delaney. Women like you don't exist in New York, so when you walk into a room, you are literally the center of attention."  
  
As if on cue, the front door of the restaurant opened, and John Reese stepped through. Her heart faltered as he lifted his head, a blinding smile spread across his face at the sight of the two women. _God help me. He really does know how to make someones heart stop._ "Here comes Captain Handsome." She muttered, causing Zoes lips to twitch upward into a smirk. "He's all yours, Miss Morgan."  
  
John sat down, his eyes flickering between the two women. It was clear Zoe was the head of their operation, with the way she constantly perfected approaching complete strangers and always had an escape route planned if things went south. Delaney was the backup, the one on the other side of the gun when it was fired. _Damaged goods._ "I know all the players, and I know all the angles. Then there's you, the man my partner knows about but refuses to actually _tell_ me about. I don't understand you, and I don't like things I don't understand."  
  
"Good luck with that. I've known him for nearly twenty years and I still don't understand him."  
  
"Why did you want me to come here then?"  
  
"I don't have to like you to get some use out of you. The girl on the recording, her name is Dana Miller. Lawson had her killed, but not because she was sleeping with him."  
  
Delaney continued to zone out of their conversation, her sight becoming fuzzy with the more wine she drank. John immediately noticed her body beginning to slightly sway, reminded of her alcohol problem in Afghanistan and in the CIA. Pressing his elbows against the table, he slowly reached for Delaneys glass but was stopped by her fingers wrapping around the stem. She gasped softly at the feeling of their fingers so closely connected, a spark of something she had not felt in a long time. "I thought everyone had an angle."  
  
"I knew this girl once, naive. She got a tough lesson in the way the world works. It reminds me of Dana."  
  
Zoe was speaking of the beginning of her journey with Delaney, when she was nothing more then an alcohol addicted ex-military woman with a heart that currently wasn't with her. It was in another mans hands, and she couldn't seem to function properly for months, and the car accident which had rendered her leg injured had been her 'tough lesson' in the way the world works.

Both were shocked when Delaney lifted her head, her eyes void of any trace of alcohol and now alerted by the overwhelming amount of people inside the restaurant. "Alright, pretty boy. Why don't we get out of here?" John tilted his head slightly, trying to figure out what she was hiding - why she wasn't being _Delaney._ The woman who took charge, got things done, and _saved_ his life.  
  
"Where are we going, Del?"  
  
"To do something illegal."  
  
***  
  
After their short visit to Lieutenant Gilmore, Delaney lead Zoe and John towards Vertanin Pharmaceuticals for their break in. "I don't think I've seen her take charge like this since we met." Zoe murmured, grinning when the door slid open with ease and the three of them began to jog up the staircase. "Wait until you see her shoot. She's-"   
  
"Deadly accurate? Believe me, I know."  
  
Upon arrival to Lawsons office, John pulled out a paperclip and inserted it into the lock to lockpick the door. "You're probably one of those guys who can get out of anything with a paper clip. Where'd you learn this stuff?" Delaney snorted as Johns smile widened, slipping the paperclip back into his jacket as they entered the office.  
  
"It's a long story."  
  
Delaney immediately sat down at the computer, her fingers flying furiously across the keyboard as she applied recovery software to retrieve any email threads Dana would've sent before her death. "Please Zoe, don't inflate his ego. It'll just make him brag more." She smiled as two separate forms for Vertanins drug popped up onto the screen, and Zoe pressed her finger against a certain column. "There's what you're looking for, boys and girls."  
  
" _I didn't know your friend was so handy with computers, Mr. Reese."_  
  
John couldn't help the overwhelming weight of pride that settled into his chest as he leaned against the back of the chair Delaney was sitting in. She had always managed to amaze him in even the smallest ways; even when it came to hidden talents he didn't know about. "Right there. She accessed this file a dozen times in the days before she was killed." The file beside it was a clinical trial of hundreds of names, the word **Sylocet** written in bold front across the top.  
  
"Looks like a clinical trial for their drug Sylocet. FDA approved."  
  
"But look," Delaney replied softly, motioning to the file on the left. "It's been altered somehow. These are two files with the same name, but the older one is slightly larger. There are six names missing from the trial data that Vertanin submitted to the FDA, which most likely means that they died from the use of the drug."  
  
" _Your friend is right, Mr. Reese. All six of those names died of congestive heart failure."_  
  
"If a million people take that drug, Del.. Thirty thousand people could die."  
  
As if on cue, the lights flickered on and Delaney shot up, her hand gripping the handgun she always kept on her thigh beneath the dresses she wore. Zoe's client was standing in front of them, his own gun aimed directly at Zoe as he stepped into the room. "Well well.. I guess we should call the cops, huh?"  
  
John slowly reached out, his fingertips skimming the curve of Dels hip to try and grasp her attention while the other two men focused on Zoe. Her head snapped over to him, eyes curious to what his plan was. His attempt suddenly seemed void when the three of them were thrown into another room, forced into chairs and ziptied. "John, are you going to tell me how you knew the two of us were in trouble?"  
  
"Given the choice of work you both are in, it doesn't seem like much of a stretch. I'd consider a new line of work, for both of you."  
  
Delaney snorted in her seat beside John, continuing to fabricate a plan for their escape. _If only I were double jointed..._ _"_ You're one to judge. Besides, you don't know anything about me."  
  
John smiled using all of his face, the crows feet around his eyes illuminating his blue green irises as he flicked his head towards Delaney. "I may not know as much about you as I'd like to, but I can tell you that I know her better then she knows herself." Delaney cursed under her breath, painfully adjusting her arms as she slumped down in defeat. She hadn't even heard the last words of their conversation before Douglas came back into the room.  
  
" _Always have something to trade._ "  
  
"This guy just doesn't know when to give up, does he?" Douglas turned sharply on his foot, throwing back his hand and slapping Delaney across her face. An angry red handprint blossomed against her pale skin, and her brown eyes slowly turned dark with malice. The look of fury in Johns face didn't go unnoticed either. "Oh sunshine. You really think that hurts me? Is that the _worst_ you can do?"  
  
Apart of her wanted to cry out when Douglas gripped her hair and forced her to lean to the right, now in the proximity of John. She did nothing but grit her teeth, resisting the urge to spit in Douglas' face as he leaned in close to her. "Sweetheart, I could do alot worse to you." The muscles in her neck screamed as he set her chair back down, and she headbutted him hard.  
  
" _Oh Douglas, I'd love to see you try."_  
  
John had to give her credit, she had become much more threatening since the last time the two of them had come across one another. She didn't take threats to heart, because she knew from experience that no matter what people did to her, she would survive it. Delaney puckered her lips, her spittle flecked with blood as it spattered on the floor beside her.  
  
"Okay, so where is it now?"  
  
"With the only person I trust."  
  
Why did everything in the room seem so foggy? And why did Johns whisper of her name sound so far away?  
  
Her blood turned to ice when Zoe's handcuffs were unlocked, and she turned to face both her and John. "I told you, always have something to trade." Fury took place of her blood as Delaney slammed her foot into the floor, drawing Zoes attention right to her. "Sorry Del, but I know you're more then capable."  
  
And with that she was gone, leaving Delaney alone with Douglas and John, who was not only furious that Zoe had betrayed Delaneys trust, but that Douglas had treated her like an locked up animal. When Douglas filled the syringe with potassium chloride and flicked it with the tip of his finger, he turned towards the bleeding woman to his left. "Potassium chloride, has the potential to stop the heart in a matter of minutes." Her face was stoic as he tilted her head to the side, the syringe hovering above the milky white skin of her neck. "But believe me, no ones going to miss you."  
  
The moment his fingers grazed her neck, John sprung into action, knocking her chair onto the floor as he threw Douglas into the wall and plunged the syringe into his own neck. From her spot on the ground, Delaney began to laugh as John knelt beside her, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You've obviously got a concussion. What are you laughing at?"  
  
"He told me no one was going to miss me." She propped herself up on her elbow, frozen as John scooped her up in his arms bridal style. Exhaustion took the place of her anger directed at Zoe as she rested her head on his warm, broad chest, her fingers drifting upward towards the open buttons on the top of his shirt. "But he's wrong. There is one person who would miss me if I died, Reese. It's you."  
  
All John could do was smile as he laid his now unconscious ghost from his past in the back seat of his vehicle, tenderly brushing a lock of brown hair away from her face as he shut the door of the car and drove to where Finch claimed Zoe was heading.  
  
***  
  
"Is my partner pissed at me? I can imagine she probably is. That's the first time I've sold her like that."  
  
John motioned to his car, where Delaney was now sitting up with her head resting against the window. "I'd imagine so, but she did tell me when she woke up that she wanted to talk to you about something. She's got a mild concussion and bleeding knuckles, but she's been through worse since I've known her. I imagine she'll be alright." Delaney slowly exited John's car, her feet shuffling along the concrete at a painstaking pace. "Do you-"  
  
"Yeah. It'll only be a moment."  
  
Zoe watched with concerned eyes as her partner cradled her head, groaning as the sun peered out from behind the clouds. "Zoe, what you did was pure stupidity. I don't care if it was to do the right thing, but I can't work with someone who's just going to sell me out like that. You know that I care about you. You're like my sister, and the one person who pulled me out of my stupor when I lost Mckenna. I just..." It was almost as if Zoe immediately understood because before Delaney could continue, she leaned forward and softly squeezed her best friends hand.  
  
"You want to consider a different job? I understand. John told me about his imaginary friends employment opportunity for you to help him, and I think you should take it. I'm getting pretty good at handling myself, and fixing peoples problems was never really your thing. You're skilled at saving lives." Tears sprung into Delaneys amber eyes as Zoe took a step forward and enveloped her closest friend in a hug. "You're still my Lady In Red, and the only person I trust. Who knows.." Her dark eyes flickered to John, who was casually leaning against the car and twisting a ring on his finger. "Maybe I'll learn to trust Pretty Boy."  
  
Delaney pulled away first, waving a somber goodbye to her closest ally as the two of them began to walk in opposite directions. "You, me, Chinese tonight? I still have to live with you for a while, you know." Zoe nodded and winked before vanishing from her sight. Heaving a sigh, Delaney turned towards John, who was grinning widely as he opened the passenger door. "Why are you smiling now, you stupid dork?"  
  
Her heart threatened to break free from her chest as John opened the back door to his car, and said the four words she'd been dreaming to hear for months.  
  
" _Come away with me?_ "  
  
"It would be my pleasure, Mr Reese."


	10. I'm Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It never gets easier confronting your past.

**Early February 2012**  
  
It had been more then two months since Delaney had moved out of Zoe's apartment, closer to the Library, and had begun a flurry of physical therapy appointments alongside training and working the numbers with John. "C'mon, you used to do better then that!"  
  
With lunch right around the corner, John had convinced her to come train with him before Finch announced a new number. There was a small gym just beneath the library, attached to the building itself. It was the size of two compact offices, with multiple machines around the room and a large red mat for sparring. "If you keep egging me on like this, I'll kick you in the face. Do you really want to test me?" She retorted, swinging her leg around, kicking John hard in the abdomen.

Since her return as John's new partner, Delaney had noticed a new side of John she hadn't seen while in the CIA or in the military. It was almost as if she was staring at two different sides of the same coin; the haunted, business professional who spent all his time saving everyone else, and the man who had fallen in love with the only woman he could be himself around. Regardless of which one she spent her time with, she loved it. "I'm the only one who has _ever_ been willing to test you, John." She mused, delivering solid punches aimed at his stomach which he easily deflected. Delaney huffed and winced at the cracking of her knee, grinning as the muscles in her leg loosened.

"Want to see something fun?"  
  
"Like this?"  
  
A shriek escaped her lips as John kicked her legs out from beneath her, sending her flat on the mats. It reeked of sweat as he straddled her waist, and she suddenly became very conscious of the man practically hovering over her. "Yeah." She whispered breathlessly, lifting a tender hand to graze over a small cut underneath his eye. "Like that." The only sound in the room was their pounding heartbeats echoing in their ears as John leaned down closer to her face. _He smells so good._  
  
"I'm not sure I can do this." His voice sounded so broken, so helpless, and so utterly humiliated. The last woman he'd been in love with was Jessica, and to this day he still felt responsible. Delaney felt a tinge of guilt as she lifted her head, her lips just mere inches from his own as they stared at one another. "You don't deserve someone like me-" Before she could respond, there was a sharp knock at the door where Finch was standing, dressed to go out into the snow.  
  
"We have a new number. Care to come see?"  
  
And with that he was gone, and Delaney took the opportunity to slide out from beneath John as they both stood to their feet. "You've got alot to catch up on still, John." His face fell slightly and she stood on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to the weathered skin of his cheek. "And to answer your question, no. I'm not afraid of you or your past. There's nothing you could say, do, or try in order to make me run away from you. You matter way too much to me for me to leave you now."  
  
"Want to get coffee with me later?" He blurted out abruptly, thankful he wasn't soaked in sweat as Delaney dabbed at her face with a tissue, reapplying deodorant before throwing on the plush white sweater Finch had given to her for Christmas. She was still several inches shorter then him, and John continued to pester her about the height difference. The fact of the matter was, he _loved_ to tease her. She'd be the only one who ever knew it.  
  
"John Reese, are you asking me out on a date?" Her voice held its usual playfulness as they ascended the steps to the Library. John felt his throat close and his breathing quicken as he ran a hand through his hair, a red hot blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Oh good lord, don't get so flustered. Of course I'll have coffee with you, but let's do it on Valentines day."  
  
"Consider it a friendly coffee."  
  
 _February 14th, 2012_  
  
"This is the friendliest friend date I've been on in my entire life." Delaney wrapped her arm through Johns, adjusting the beanie on her head as they walked down the sidewalk in one of her favorite squares in Manhattan. "That coffee was terrible by the way. You really need to learn how to pick a cafe."  
  
John snorted in disbelief. "The only good cafe in this part of Manhattan is-" His voice faltered as he turned the corner, his sea foam eyes scanning the silver lettering on the cafe across the street. "Burns Cafe." Delaney's heart sank when she too followed his gaze, eyeing the tiny cafe that also served as a bakery where she'd come with Mckenna many days during their leave. Tears pricked her eyes as the two of them both turned away, but not before John could say something. "I think it's time, Del. I haven't even seen Mckennas parents since her funeral. Wouldn't it be good to say hello?"  
  
If he hadn't given her that pleading look, she would've undone their arms and walked back towards the intersection where most of the cabs would be waiting. She just couldn't not give in to John, especially when he wanted to reconcile with his dead best friends parents. "Alright, but only this once. I don't know if I have the heart to come back in here."  
  
The cafe was warm and smelled of nutmeg and cinnamon, and the sight of her favorite pie in the display made Delaneys mouth water. "How many?" The waitress called out, stepping in front of them and flashing a smile.  
  
"Two, and we'd like a booth in the back, if you could."  
  
The waitress, who had introduced herself as Kathy, showed them to a booth in the back corner of the cafe that had a perfect view of the counter and all the people inside. Delaney murmured an order for both her and John, consisting of two hot chocolates and two slices of cherry pie. Kathy vanished before either of them could thank her. "Alright, so an answer for an question. I'll start. What is the Machine, and how did you come to work for it?"  
  
John went on to explain to her his arrest via Detective Carter shortly after New Rochelle, and how he'd been taken to meet Finch underneath one of New Yorks busiest bridges, and how Finch had known everything about him despite actually being told. "The Machine is an artificial intelligence that Finch created after 9/11 to detect threats, but it's honed in on crime in New York. You and I are hired to stop crimes before they happen." He leaned forward, noticing the understanding in her eyes as he sipped on his hot chocolate. "Alright, my turn. What happened in London?"  
  
 _One day I will tell this story without crying._ "Mckenna and I were assigned to look after and take down the head of a trafficking ring, Joshua Black." Her stomach churned as she recalled the memory, how much blood there had been on the pavement by the time the paramedics had arrived. "We had followed him out into the street when he'd left the gala we were attending- we should've followed him and rescued the girl. I shot his hand to release his grip on the girl we were to rescue, and in turn, he shot back at me. Mckenna stepped in front and took the bullet, she was dead in minutes." Delaney leaned forward on her elbows, her face so close to Johns that she could see the flecks of green in his blue eyes. "Have you ever watched someone you love die right in front of you, and you're helpless to do anything? John, I don't think I've ever been so helpless then in that moment. To this day, it still kills me to know that I didn't save her."  
  
He breathed in deeply, taking her hand in his own and tracing the dips in her fingers. "I think that's why we're so similar." John whispered. "We're killers, Delaney. Just damaged souls that can't do what other humans can do. Surrender your burdens, release the ghosts, and keep going in life. That's just not how we're wired." She dipped her fork into the cherry pie, pulling the delicacy off of it with her tongue. "I didn't expect this to be a 'we exchange stories' kind of-"  
  
"This is totally a date, by the way." She murmured, lightly poking his nose as she continued to eat her pie. "This is good, John. The fact we're exchanging everything that's happened since I left the CIA."  
  
"You know I can read you almost as easily as you can read me. What aren't you telling me, Del?"  
  
John knew just by the reluctance in her face that she was aware of one of the bigger burdens he'd refused to let go. "Everything that happened with Jessica.." She replied, sliding her plate and empty mug across the table. " _I-I'm so sorry."_  
  
Had it been a year before, John would've stiffened and retreated into himself at the thought of Jessica, but to know she had kept Jessica alive while he was gone sent a wave of relief through his heart. "I figured that was going to come up, but if you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about Jess."  
  
Silence settled between the two of them, until an older couple in their fifties stepped out from behind the counter, exchanging greetings with the customers. The woman was the younger of the two, with fading blonde hair and dark green eyes that may have seemed happy, but behind them was pent up sadness. The male was tall and well built, with slightly broad shoulders, accompanied by blue eyes and brown hair streaked with grey. John and Delaney watched as Kathy poked the mans shoulder, motioning to the two of them in the back.  
  
" _Delaney? John?_ "  
  
Delaney feigned a sympathetic smile and waved. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Burns. It's great to see you again." Mrs Burns, otherwise known as Anne Burns, wrapped her hand around her husbands wrist and motioned him towards their table. "The pie here is still to die for, by the way. Consider me impressed."  
  
Anne turned to Michael, murmuring something in his ear before he vanished into the _Employees Only_ door by their table. "Mckenna had a box of things for you, Delaney. Always said that one day you would come back here due to your love for my cherry pie. I kept it hidden in the supply room until now.. I didn't know if you'd ever return." John watched with a blank expression as Michael sat down a small box labeled _CIA Brat_ written in Mckennas script across the top of the box. A nostalgic smile made her lips twitch upward in a smile as she and John both stood to their feet. "Thank you for being the best friend my daughter needed."  
  
"She was the best of us, Anne. I won't ever forget your daughter."  
  
The two of them silently exited the cafe, walking out into the brisk February air. Delaney clutched the box with gloved fingers as they walked side by side towards the intersection where they could flag down a taxi. "Del," John breathed, his own breath foggy in the light from the lamp post. "Delaney, _stop._ "  
  
Delaney halted in her steps, eyes wide as Johns hand slid down to her hip, gently pulling her thin frame towards him. "John, I can't relive all these memories right now." She replied, trying to ignore the overwhelming amount of tears in her eyes. "I need-"  
  
"You need to breathe, sweetheart." She suddenly became hyper alert of the little proximity between their bodies, her box now sitting on the stone wall outlining the front of the cafe. "You're shaking like a leaf, Delaney. Just clear your head, and look at me." Her eyes snapped over to his own, and she felt all the breath leave her lungs as she finally looked deep into Johns eyes, reliving all of the pain and grief that lurked deep in his own blue eyes. As if instinctual, her hands slid up his chest and curled in his salt and pepper locks, lightly tugging on them. "Can I kiss you?"  
  
"John, I would be terribly offended if you didn't."  
  
He tilted her chin upward, his fingers lightly trailing over her prominent jaw as she slowly reciprocated his kiss, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her at the ferocity behind it. Her teeth lightly sucked on his bottom lip, her heart sinking as John pulled away first, breathing heavily. "Happy Valentines Day." He whispered, his laughter bouncing off of the buildings walls as a smile graced Delaneys face.

"Same to you, pretty boy."


	11. Protective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during 1x17: Baby Blue

" _Not only is John a soldier, he's the only man I've ever met with a heart that adores people, and eyes that tell ten thousand different stories as soon as you look into them. He's protective, he's compassionate, and he's.. He's human." Delaney lifted her eyes from where they settled on Johns CIA and Military file hidden in her satchel, her amber eyes landing on Detective Carter. "And what's detrimental about the entire situation is that I'm hopelessly lost in a man who cares too much about people to save himself."_  
  
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

  
"We have a new number, Miss Chrysler." Finch called out, donning his signature hat and coat to prepare to walk out into the cool March afternoon. "I want you to stay here and do the technical work for Mr. Reese as he joins Detective Carter to retrieve Moretti." Delaney nodded, sipping her morning coffee as she perched her feet on the edge of Finch's desk. "Let me know if you need anything!"  
  
And with that he was gone, leaving Delaney to her thoughts as she burrowed her fingers into her jacket pocket, her fingers lightly grazing the cold metal of a locket as she pulled her ear piece out and placed it in her ear. Her mind backtracked to a week before, when she'd finally gathered the courage to open up the box Mckenna had saved specifically for her.  
  
 _It was well past one o clock in the morning, and she'd spent the night at Zoe's apartment again since she still had not acquired her own place. Mckenna's box stared at her tantalizingly, as if it was begging her to be opened. "Stupid Pandoras Box." She muttered under her breath, her head snapping upward as Zoe flicked on the light, leaning against the doorway of her bedroom. "What're you doing up?"  
  
"Helping you confront your demons, sunshine. Open the box." Delaney carefully slid the box off of the table, setting the lid down on the floor as she rummaged through its contents. A book, an envelope of photographs, and a sealed letter labeled **Read When You Are Mrs. John Reese.** "This woman was the biggest advocate of John and I getting together."_

She smiled fondly at the memory, twirling the locket charm between her fingers as her fingers pried it open, revealing the photo of her and Mckenna taken on the day they had started boot camp. "Hey Del. How's life?" Johns voice spoke smoothly through her ear piece, his coordinates from the GPS in his phone flashing on the screen. "Have we heard from Finch?"  
  
The time must've gone by quicker then she thought, given the fact that Finch had left earlier in the afternoon and it was almost dusk. "Finch left to check in on Leila Smith, our new number. He left me to do your technical work, pretty boy." She spun around in the chair, giggling as her collar length brunette hair swept into her face. "How's Moretti?"

"In the care of Detective Carter, who is thrilled to hear you're alive and kicking, by the way. She thought you were dead."  
  
Before she could respond with an equally sarcastic comment, Finch's panicked voice blared through her earpiece so loudly that it nearly caused her to topple out of her chair. "Mr Reese? Miss Chrysler? I'm afraid I might have done something rather rash."  
  
"How rash are we talking, Finch?"  
  
There was heavy thudding up the steps as Finch stumbled inside the Library, Delaneys face paling when a beautiful baby girl with blue eyes and dirty blonde hair poked her head out, chubby hands reaching towards her. "I may or may not have kidnapped a baby." He muttered, afraid she would scold him. Despite the age differences, since Delaney had started working as John's partner, she was constantly scolding the two men for not thinking rationally when making decisions. For example, like stealing _a baby_ from the clinic she had been left at as a newborn. "Leila is a safehaven baby, and she was in danger of being kidnapped. Now it's our job to figure out why."  
  
"A six month old baby is the new number?!" Delaney said skeptically, mouth forming an O as she plucked the baby out of the box, laying down flat on her back as she laid Leila flat against her knees, holding her arms out vertically. _I'm flying forever, for all eternity. "_ Who on Earth would want to hurt this angel?"  
  
"That's what we're here to find out."  
  
The next morning when John entered The Library, he found Delaney and Leila in the middle of a circular fortress of books, the older womans fingers threading through the baby's hair as she curiously played with one of Finch's ties. "I'm thinking this isn't a murder being planned. Whoever they is, they would smuggle her out of the country and dump her in an orphanage where birth records aren't plentiful."  
  
John was staring at Delaney, who was completely enthralled by the baby in her arms. Her brown eyes lit up as she lifted her head, her bowshaped lips spread back into a dazzling smile that he hadn't seen since their days in early CIA training with Mckenna. He furrowed his brow, placing his hand over his heart as it began to palpitate erratically. "Now who would want to get rid of her?"  
  
"Stupid people, or an affair gone wrong." Delaney muttered, standing to her feet and placing Leila on her hip. "She could be an obstacle to someone who really wants alot of money."  
  
Finch straightened his glasses, continuing to type furiously on his laptop. "I sent the clinic a sternly worded email from the IRS demanding the tax ID number. We'll see how that works out later." Delaney chewed the flesh of her bottom lip, suppressing a smirk as an amber alert declared by the clinic popped up onto Finch's screen.  
  
"Oh, look Finch! Someone took alot of time to draw a _fantastic_ photo of a baby napper. He looks suspiciously like you..."  
  
"Your sarcastic charm is appreciated at most times, Miss Chrysler. This doesn't happen to be one of them." John turned his body, smiling softly down at Leila as she lifted her head and cooed curiously, her blue eyes glittering in the minimal sunlight filtering through the Library windows.  
  
"Finch, do you think that Carter can piggyback the investigation?" John murmured, wrapping his fingers beneath Leilas arms and pulling her into his embrace.  
  
"Yes, I'll ask her. Until then, you and Miss Chrysler can stay here and spend quality time with Leila." Delaney guffawed, snickering as Johns face paled while Finch gathered himself and disappeared down the steps. Their Valentines kiss hadn't been spoken of since that night, and John was reluctant to spend time alone with the woman he found himself continuously finding new things to love about.  
  
 _Look at her smile. So broken but so bright despite the pain in her eyes._  
  
Delaney turned her head upward towards John, a devious grin on her face as she knelt down on the floor and pulled the pack of diapers out from beneath the changing table Finch had acquired. "Here I say, pretty boy, have you ever changed a diaper before?"  
  
"It can't be that difficult!"  
  
As she laid the baby on the changing table, John ignored the overwhelming urge to rest his hands against her hips, just to feel her body beneath his hands. "Alright then, do it without me teaching you. Mr. CIA Agent should be able to figure out how to properly take care of a six month old, am I right?"  
  
***  
  
Finch couldn't help but smile at the laughter that echoed through the Library as he returned from his informal meeting with Detective Carter, only to find Leila watching John benchpress Delaney, who couldn't have weighed anymore then 130 pounds even. He stayed back just to witness the moment, one he felt deep in his heart that he wasn't supposed to walk in on. "Color me impressed, Reese. I haven't been bench pressed since I was 10!"  
  
John wiped the sweat off of his face, standing to his feet as Finch took the opportunity to re-enter the Library. "You're a stick, and you always have been a stick. It also helps with my cardio workout that I desperately need to get on track." The duo looked to their boss, who had sat down at his computer, scanning an open email from the Clinic Leila had come from. "What'd you discover, Finch?"  
  
"The clinic coughed up the ID number of the donor, a Petrosian Construction. They're owned by Adnan Petrosian, and if we dive into the pit known as social media, we'll learn that Adnan has been married to Nicola Petrosian for twenty years, and they have one son. Bradley Petrosian, who's taking a Masters in Finance at NYU." Delaney resisted the snicker creeping up towards her lips as John let the baby lean towards the computer screen, curiously eyeing the Petrosians.  
  
"Dadda?" His finger hovering over Adnan slowly shifted to Bradley. "Or Dadda?"  
  
"John, can you stop being pretty for two seconds?" Delaney deadpanned, her lips turning upward in her own smile as John turned his head, grinning like an idiot. _If only you knew, John Reese._ "You need to get close to this family. Figure out what's really going on here. I'll make a phone call to our lovely Detective Carter to gather any further information. And Finch," Delaney clasped her hands on the billionaires shoulders. "You can spend quality time with Leila. Just do me a favor and don't let John change her diaper. He's a wuss."  
  
"Delaney Chrysler, wipe that stupid smirk off of your face."  
  
Despite the fact that Johns gaze was burning into her head, she couldn't help but mock salute as if he were her chain of command. "Yes Sergeant Reese!" Once he was gone, Delaney pulled out her cellphone and pressed #2 on her speed dial, her back sliding down the hallway wall as she pulled her knees to her chest.  
  
" _This is Detective Carter. How can I help you?_ "  
  
"Hiya Joss. You have a minute?"  
  
***  
  
"How on _Earth_ do you deal with those two?" Joss muttered, lightly nudging Delaney who stood beside her, hair blowing freely behind her shoulders as they faced the Hudson River. The two women had agreed to meet to talk about Claudia Cruz, the twenty year old who had worked at Petrosian Construction who had been killed several days before. "Good Lord, I would beat my head against a wall if I worked constantly with them."  
  
"They're good men, Joss. Just good men who act like children on occasion." Both women turned around to face John, who was wearing a crossover carrier that contained Leila, who was chewing on her hands as her blue eyes flitted back and forth underneath a black hat. "Why did you bring her with you?"  
  
"John, every cop in the city is looking for that child and so help me God, if anything happens to her... I'll kill you myself." John looked down at the baby, then back up at Carter, who was glaring at him so hard he thought his knees would buckle.  
  
"I'm just teaching her to go undercover. She's a natural."  
  
Delaney sighed and removed the brown hat, pressing a kiss to Leilas head before running her fingers through her hair. "You're an idiot." Standing on her tiptoes, she peered over Johns shoulder to look at Finch, who too was staring out onto the murky waters of the Hudson. "What've we gathered here, Finch?"  
  
"Well, we know that Leila came from a clinic funded by the Petrosians, and her mother worked for Petrosians, so it's probable that her father is one of the Petrosians." Delaney rocked on the balls of her feet, her fingers tracing the fabric of the inside of her coat. The possibility that someone would want to kill a six month old baby made her furious for a number of reasons, but the main being that Leila was vulnerable, and couldn't protect herself.  
  
"Can anyone please explain to me why the mother would end up dead?"  
  
As Carter and Finch exchanged words, Delaney found herself zoning out of the conversation as she turned towards Leila, who was now curiously glancing between both her and John. By the look in her bright blue irises, it seemed to be that she understood there was a deep connection between the two of them.  
  
"Good. I'll see if Claudia's parents know anything. Delaney will follow Bradley Petrosian, and John," Finch laid a hand on his colleagues shoulder as the baby curled her fingers around his thumb. "You can feed Leila." A small snort left the brunettes lips as John shot her that soul piercing gaze before turning on his heel to follow Finch. Before he could leave, he pulled Delaney close to his body, his face just inches away from hers.  
  
" _Stay safe,_ Chrysler."  
  
Her heart melted but she managed a nod anyways, drawing the laughter of Detective Carter as the two men vanished from their sight. "My God, Delaney! I don't think I've seen someone so love sick, and _John_? Where on Earth did that come from?!" She cried, gasping for breath as the former CIA agent turned around with a dark, far off gaze in her amber eyes as she stared at the Homicide Detective.  
  
"It comes from falling in love with someone you can't have, Carter. You should try going on a date sometime."


	12. To The Depths Of Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are revealed.

_If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?_  
 _If our loves insanity, why are you my clarity?_  
<><><><><><><><><><><><>

"You know Harry, this job would be a lot easier if I wasn't following a man of mystery." Delaney murmured, leaning against a lightpost as she watched Bradley Petrosian enter a coffee shop across the street. "This man is a typical New Yorker."   
  
" _So you think we should look at the father Adnan?"_  
  
She pursed her lips, chewing on the flesh of her bottom lip as Bradley greeted another man inside the shop in a _very friendly_ manner. "Well, we have been barking up the wrong tree. Our dear Petrosian son's interests run in the.. other direction." Her mouth began to water at the smell of freshly brewed coffee, so Delaney crossed the street and entered a different cafe, eyes scanning the menu for the drink she wanted. The sound of Finch's distressed voice screeched through her earpiece, causing her to wince as she slid the barista a five dollar bill. "Finch?"   


" _I told you to move your arsenal, John! We can't both be here minding the baby, it's a miracle that we have Miss Chrysler to help work the number!"_  
  
A soft laugh left her lips as Delaney made her way back in the direction of the Library, sipping at the hot drink as she tiptoed up the stairs back into the Library. "Oh, look at the both of you. Acting like such protective parents," She placed a hand over her heart and pouted mockingly. "I'm so proud."   
  
Both men ignored her sarcastic banter as John watched Finch take Leila down the stairs to his car in her baby carrier. "Care to join us, Miss Chrysler? We're taking Leila to her grandparents house." Her amber colored eyes slowly shifted between Finch and John, who was staring back at her with equal depth in his own sea foam eyes. A shiver ran through her body as Delaney managed a small nod.   
  
"Can you do me a favor and not call me Miss Chrysler? It makes me feel old. Del or Delaney will suffice."   
  
Finch chuckled as they both entered the front seats of the car, slamming the doors shut in unison. "Del sounds like a splendid name."   
  
***  
 _Small Time Skip_  
  
"If we don't rescue Leila tonight, she'll be smuggled out of the country by tomorrow morning. Then there will be nothing we can do." Delaney casually leaned against John, her fingers trailing up the sleeve of his coat absentmindedly. She was worried about Leilas life, furious at the men who would hurt an innocent six month old, and upset with herself for not being able to protect their number.   
  
"Who were those men?"   
  
"I've seen the insignia before." Delaney murmured. "They were Albanians. My thinking now is that we head into the heart of the storm," John turned his head downwards slightly, fixated on her sharp features as her long black lashes brushed the top of her cheeks. "The Petrosians house. John and I will get information out of Adnan, but I think it's best that you return to the Library."   
  
They left in a rush, hand in hand as they stormed through the front doors of the mansion, glass shattering in their wake as John rushed Adnan while Delaney held her gun high, aimed directly at Nicola. "Security!" She cried out, gasping as fingers wrapped around her throat and forced her down onto the sofa.   
  
"No no, I wouldn't do that if I were you." Delaney chided, pulling her phone out of her coat pocket as it began to ring.   
  
_Text Message Received: Joss Carter  
Have ID'D prints on the murder weapon. Wives prints on lamp. _  
  
"Did you hire the men who took Leila?" Johns voice was deadly serious as he inched closer to Nicola, who was struggling to free herself of Delaneys steel grip on her upper arms. "Call them."   
  
Her mind began to gambol off elsewhere, dreaming of that feeling of peace she'd long since felt, when she and John weren't trained assassins and working with a reclusive billionaire to save the lives of people in New York. By the time that she snapped back to reality, John was dragging her out of the house and back towards the car. "You have a habit of zoning out whenever we're taking care of a problem. Are you sure that you're alright?"   
  
"I'm not used to this yet." Delaney replied. "Running around, saving the lives of people who don't always deserve it, it's a new concept. I've been taking out perpetrators for years with Zoe, and now I'm saving lives. Just like I saved yours." Staring at him in the moonlight made her heart race and her palms sweat like a school girl, and she cursed herself for fine tuning her emotions to the highest level possible. "I think there's something you're feeling, John. You feel this?" She placed his hand on top of her heart, pulse thrumming steadily beneath his fingers. "That's how I feel almost every time I look at you. I remember how afraid you were to let people in because of the loss you endured with your parents, but I assure you John... _I'm not going anywhere._ "   
  
John dipped his head down, his fingers gently wrapping around the frame of her jaw as her hands threaded through his hair. It had been so long since he'd fallen in love with someone who he was certain he wouldn't lose; but even when he tried to push her out of his life, Delaney Chrysler came storming back in, his walls came falling down, and his heart was exposed.   
  
His lips brushed over hers in a feathery light kiss, electricity replacing the blood in his veins as Delaneys knees threatened to buckle at the feeling of Johns hands on her face. A low growl escaped his throat as he deepened the first of many kisses, his teeth gently raking over her bottom lip. " _Please._ " He murmured, resting his head in the crook of her shoulder. " _Don't leave me._ "   
  
Such a moment of vulnerability was rare to see in a man like John Reese, but when his eyes met hers, every little thing in her world that had fallen apart since 2009 suddenly began to piece itself back together. "I don't plan on it, pretty boy." Delaney whispered, the ghost of a smile on her lips as she unwound himself from the warmth of his body. "I'll go back to the Library, you go talk to Elias. When this is all over, we'll have one of our infamous scotch confession nights. Deal?"   
  
"Absolutely."   
  
***  
  
She thought it was all over when Elias locked John inside the refrigerated truck, forcing him to give up the location of Gianni Moretti, a Mafia don who had murdered his wife in 1973 and left Carl Elias to fend for himself in the foster care system. Despite the bruising on his hands and the lack of color in his cheeks, he immediately jumped into Finchs car without a second thought, demanding that she stay with Finch to help take care of the baby while he went after Carter to rescue Gianni from his son.   
  
" _Has Mr. Reese always had a hero complex, Del?_ "   
  
She sat in front of the heater in the truck, Leila tucked into her arms as she rocked the baby to sleep while Finch drove them back to the Library. " _From the very start of our friendship John has always cared more about others them himself. It's who he is. His hero complex may save countless lives, but it'll be his_ _downfall._ "   
  
The second she'd stepped foot inside of the Library, her body had shut down due to the lack of sleep since starting the number, and she'd fallen asleep with Leila gurgling happily in her lap. When she came to, John was kneeling in front of her, and the baby was gone.   
  
"Did you take her home?"   
  
He nodded weakly, taking her into his arms as she suppressed a yawn. "We took her to her grandparents house earlier this evening. The number’s done." Delaney rested her head against his chest, resisting the urge to fall back asleep as John rested his chin against the top of her head. "Want to come back to my apartment with me?"  
  
" _Do you ever think about having children, Finch?"  
  
"That's the problem with children. You never know how they'll turn out." _  
  
John immediately regretted his choice of words when a wicked grin spread across her pale cheeks, causing a red hot blush to spread across his face. "Look at you. John Reese, the sexiest assassin to ever grace this planet, asking a girl like me to come back to your apartment. Can't say I'm not flattered." He wrapped his arm through her own, his fingers trailing down her forearm to wrap through her own. " _Holding hands?_ "   
  
"Try to be subtle, Del. I haven't done this in a long time."   
  
Good lord, he was _precious._ It wasn't everyday that her greatest friend was flustered, stumbling over his own words and struggling to ask a woman back to his apartment. Reaching up to trace his lips with her finger, Delaney smiled softly and managed a small nod. "I'd say you're succeeding so far, Pretty Boy. We'll talk more once we reach your apartment."   
  
***  
  
His apartment was much smaller then she'd anticipated, with very little furnishing or color to bring it to life. There was a queen sized bed pushed against the wall by the door, with a small kitchen to her left. "I'm going to change. Your prized scotch is underneath the sink, since that would be the only plausible place to keep it hidden." John remarked.   
  
Delaney couldn't help but let her eyes wander as she poured two glasses of scotch, her eyes trailing over the prominent raised scars on his back. Setting the glasses on the coffee table, she quietly stepped behind John and rested her hand against his shoulder where the most recent scar was. "You've always been afraid to let people in, John." She whispered. He shuddered as she looked into his eyes, his hands sliding down to wrap around her waist. "You've always been afraid of the inevitable, so you bury your heart deep within you so no one else can see _you._ The man you really are, the man who I grew to know in boot camp, whose life I saved because I care about him."   
  
Her heart pounded as John slowly leaned in, resting his forehead against her own. She couldn't help the slight smirk on her lips when Delaney felt just how roughly he was trembling against her body. "For a long time I've been afraid to let anyone in, Delaney. I've been trying to avoid getting close, to avoid loss." He murmured, his bright eyes flickering back and forth nervously as if they were unable to focus on her. "I'm afraid-"   
  
"Of falling in love again? To commit yourself to someone again?" John slowly backed Delaney towards the bed, her body falling in slow motion as she fell onto the mattress; her hair spread out like angel wings all around the frame of her face. He pinned her hands above her head, dipping his own downward to let his nose skim over the curve of her shoulder. "John Reese..."  
  
"Delaney Chrysler." Her name fell like an answered prayer off of his lips as he inched painfully closer to her own, his pupils dilating as he focused in on her dark eyes.

She pulled John on top of herself, lips connected for the first time since their Valentines kiss. Her fingers threaded through his salt and pepper hair, lightly pulling on the short locks as John tilted his head to deepen their kiss. She tasted like hot chocolate, with just the slightest hint of mint lingering in the corners of her mouth. Her skin smelled akin to springtime; her perfume the perfect mixture of the sweetest fruits and a hint of honeysuckle. _Delaney Chrysler was intoxicating._ When she pulled away, John rolled over to the opposite side of the bed and turned his head to meet her breath taking grin. "You know John, if you wanted to kiss me like that, all you had to do was _ask._ "


	13. Many Happy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suffering that's too terrible to name.

_May 2012_  
  
After nearly two and a half months of consistent physical therapy, accompanied by extensive training with John, Delaney found herself healthier then she had been in years and in peak physical condition. Her knee, despite the constancy of the pain that lingered, no longer became a problem when working numbers.  
  
Her relationship with John flourished, the both of them taking initiative to spend time together; exchanging war stories and exploring new cafes in Manhattan and Queens. Delaney poured herself into their work, keeping her focus on saving their number and eliminating the threat.  
  
"G'morning Finch." Finch lifted his head, a confused expression on his face as he eyed his colleagues sitting at his computer, Delaney typing away furiously while John leaned against her leg, pouring over a book. Delaney turned her head and wiggled her eyebrows, guffawing as she re-read the title of the book in Johns hands. "For the last time Delaney, will you stop scolding me for my choice of literature?"  
  
Finch snickered as the young woman snatched the book from his hands and read the title aloud. " _Stress Fractures In Titanium._ " She spoke mockingly, chucking the book across the Library and out of Johns grasps. "My God, you don't even _like_ science so stop pretending you do!"  
  
"I don't know why you two are even here. The Machine has not filtered through a single number today, so I think it's only fair that you both get a day off. Particularly you, John." John quirked an eyebrow as Delaney gasped, grinning as a thought came to mind. "Did you think I didn't know?"  
  
" _It's your birthday John!_ " She squealed, peering over his shoulder to examine the box in his hands. It was small and square, big enough to hold a bottle of cologne or the key to the apartment Finch had told her about in secret a week ago. "And I'm taking you out to lunch, considering you've never done anything except get drunk and mope on the birthdays I've been with you."  
  
John did nothing but stare curiously at the box in his hand before sliding it into his pocket. "I can't argue with a beautiful woman who wants to buy me lunch. I'll take that offer, Miss Chrysler." He slipped his arm through hers, the two of them venturing down the hall. It wasn't until Delaney took the fateful look behind her, like Lot looking back on Sodom and Gamorrah, and she knew that Finch had lied about there being no number.  
  
He was trying to protect John, but from _what?_  
  
****  
  
"You have a new suit hidden for me somewhere, don't you?" John murmured, flashing a toothless smile at the blind man named Han sitting across from him. They were in the middle of a plaza bustling with people, silently eating subs from Johns favorite sandwich joint down the block. While he was mulling over the checkers game, Delaney continued to observe the passersby and wondered why Finch had lied to John in the first place.  
  
" _Did Mrs. Arndt mean alot to John?" The two of them were alone inside the Library, Finch pacing the premises while Delaney worked furiously on his computer. The concern in his words made her fingers freeze above the keyboard as she lifted her head to examine his expression.  
  
"He loved her. That's all I really know about it." _  
  
"You're doing that thing again where you're thinking and not telling me, Del." Han let loose a guttural, joyous laugh that made a smile break the vacant expression on her face. "That's typical of her, Han. We're both wanting to work but our boss gave us the day off."  
  
"You've got a day off? With a beautiful woman? You take advantage of that, John!" Han exclaimed. "Her voice is soothing and melodious... I bet she's a keeper."  
  
Delaney felt her heart flutter when John turned his head, gazing at the woman beside him with nothing but adoration evident in his blue green irises. "Yeah.. She is. Best gift I've ever received in my entire life." She leaned her head against his shoulder, rubbing circles on his pant leg as he continued to talk to Han about his birthday and if he had gotten any gifts.  
  
As she opened her mouth to compliment Han on knowing John so well, her cellphone began to ring from inside her pocket. Eyes narrowed, she pulled the device out and contemplated ignoring the call until the caller ID blinked furiously across the screen.  
  
 **Joss Carter**  
  
"Sorry boys, give me just a moment. I have to take this."  
  
The breeze flowed through her lungs as Delaney began walking away from the table, running a hand through her hair as she pressed the phone against her ear. Normally if Joss called in the middle of the day during the week, it meant someone was about to commit a heinous crime or that John was in danger, again. Most of the time it happened to be both. "You there Delaney?"  
  
"Tell me what's going on, Jocelyn."  
  
So Detective Carter proceeded to explain the situation brewing inside of the Eighth Precinct; how John was the middle man amidst a flurry of FBI agents trying to track down the supposed Man In The Suit who was believed to be a vigilante as opposed to a hero. It wasn't until Joss stopped in the middle of her explanation that Delaney finally connected the dots. "Joss... What aren't you telling me?" She murmured, crossing her legs as she sat down on a bench no more then 500 feet away from John.  
  
"They're looking into Peter Arndts disappearance. Isn't he the husband of the woman you told me about when we first met?"  
  
The breath left her lungs in that moment, her chest tightening and her eyes beginning to water as it dawned upon her. Peter was gone, Jessica was dead, and the only one who had ties to either of them were her and John. "Are they looking for The Lady In Red, or Delaney Chrysler?"  
  
"They haven't even mentioned you yet, but I'll make sure to keep you posted." Delaney flashed a smile as John stood from his game with Han, brushing his hands on his suit before making his way towards her. "Are you alright, Delaney? Want to get coffee later?"  
  
She took a deep breath, ending the call and sliding her phone into her pocket as John approached her. "I'm still here, aren't I?" He reluctantly took her hand and lead her towards the street, cars speeding in the direction of her apartment less then two blocks away from the Library. "You know somethings wrong, don't you? Or do you just want me to give you your birthday present?"  
  
"Both, but I know the latter won't happen now." He froze in his steps as she stood on her tiptoes, lightly kissing his jaw before playfully brushing her lips across his own to tease him. A redhot blush spread across his face as Delaney stood on the curb, swaying her hips as a cab pulled up beside her. " _Tease._ "  
  
A wicked grin spread across the brunettes face as she patted the seat beside her, motioning for him to step inside the vehicle. "Believe me, Pretty Boy. It's just getting started for you!"  
  
***  
  
The two of them ended up outside of a bar, spotting Finch in the middle of a conversation with a muscular, broad shouldered man who seemed to be searching for someone. "Harold!" The two of them hurried up the block, John flashing the fake badge he'd stolen from Detective Stills several months before. "Detective Stills, Eighth Precinct. The man you're talking to is my CI."  
  
"He is your confidential informant?"  
  
"And a money launderer to the late Don Moretti!" Delaney stepped in front of John and Finch, amber eyes flashing dangerously as she pressed the barrel of her handgun into the other mans abdomen.  
  
"Pretty woman in my way set aside, I do have some questions for him." He replied. Delaney snorted and shook her head, sliding her handgun back into her waistband as she scurried up the street towards Finch. The look of anger on Johns face as he shoved Finch into the car and brushed past her with no words instantly set her on edge. If he didn't know about the number, he sure did now. Finch never went out on his own unless he was investigating something.  
  
Once they arrived at The Library, her nerves instantly began to overtake her judgment, and Delaney found herself slowly backing up towards the drivers side of the car. If she could alleviate the stress by heading to Zoe's, thus giving John more breathing room, she would jump at the first opportunity. "Not so fast, War Hero." John snarled, entrapping her body against the car as Finch fled inside the building. "You knew about this case, didn't you?"  
  
The close proximity between the two of them not only flooded her body with overwhelming desire, but also sent her anxiety skyrocketing. Disappointing people was at the bottom of her list of things to accomplish, especially if one of them was John. "If you're asking if Finch told me personally about this number, no. He didn't." She growled in response. "None of this is my business."  
  
"How stellar of you! Running away from your problems, just like I do!" Her jaw dropped as John stormed inside the Library, and she was quick to follow in his wake.  
  
"No-You don't get to treat me like dirt, John Reese!" She yelled, stomping her foot into the ground. "Just because I'm a woman, who also happened to save your life, more then once, doesn't mean I'm inferior to you!" John whipped around as she slammed him against the wall, her knee secured between his legs and her arm pressed firmly over his windpipe. "Did you ever consider that I didn't mention it because it's your birthday, and it could bring back memories that send you over the edge?"  
  
A deadly, uncomfortable silence settled between the two of them; the man with a heart too big and the woman with walls set so high no one could conquer them. Delaney slowly removed her arm from Johns neck as he cleared his throat, the slightest hint of tears lingering in his eyes as he choked out five words Finch would never forget.  
  
" _Did you know about Jessica?_ "  
  
And much to his shock, Delaney took Johns face in her hands and laid the gentlest of kisses on his forehead, like a mother comforting her child. That wasn't the case here. It was a man confiding in the woman who had securely hidden what was left of his shattered heart so she could fix it herself. But the sad truth of the matter was, not all broken hearts could be fixed.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Her heart sank when John turned away like she was invisible to his eye, brushing past her as he walked towards Finch, who was now the center of his attention. She should've realized that keeping the secret about Jessica from John would break him, and now she had lost him. For how long, no one knew.  
  
 _And her world came crashing down all at once._


	14. And So It Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not often she's afraid of John... not unless he's like this.

_Through hells gates  
The ground shakes  
And valor waits  
And so it begins.... _

\- Ruelle: So It Begins  
<><><><><><><><><><><><>  


" _Do you have any idea what you just did, Mr. Reese?"_  
  
John Reese stood at the entrance to the Library, his eyes expectantly waiting to gaze upon the infuriated woman he had just left in the street. The longer he waited, the more he realized Delaney had run off, leaving him alone to scold Finch for not confessing he'd been working a case without the two of them.  
  
"She'll come around, Finch. She always does." Much to his surprise, Harold Finch slammed his hands against his computer desk and turned to John, fury written across his pale face.  
  
"You- You tore her apart verbally, and just _let her go?_ Do you have any idea what that woman means to you? What you mean to her?!" Finch cried, his voice increasing in pitch. He'd had many a conversations with Delaney Chrysler since she had started working for him, and had quickly come to the conclusion how the pair felt about one another once he watched them work numbers through the Machines eyes. "You go get Miss Chrysler back, Mr. Reese. Then we'll start working this number, _the three of us,_ together."

<><><><><><><><>

John found Delaney exactly where he'd expected to; in the graveyard behind Central Park where her mother Darla was buried. She was sitting with her chin against her knees, eyes unmoving as John approached the black granite tombstone and sat beside her. "It happened right before you came back into my life, John. There's nothing either of us could've done to stop it."  
  
He wanted to scream at the sky, curse her name forever for involvement in Jessica's last moments of life. He wanted to murder Mark Snow and Kara Stanton for keeping him away from Jessica, thus causing her initial death. Had he been there... She would've survived Peters wrath. But instead, John found himself slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his hip. "How did it happen?"  
  
''Stage four breast cancer. I didn't even know until Zoe woke me up at two in the morning one night and told me my dad had called, that my mother was in her final moments." She said quietly, twirling a strand of dark hair around her finger. "I devoted myself to saving others after that. There was the occasional mess I'd have to clean up for Zoe.. But I helped her save alot of lives, John."  
  
"What I said back there... It wasn't what I meant. I was just angry at myself, like I have been for _years,_ for not being there to save Jessica. It was a heat of the moment-" Delaney turned sideways, her fingertips trailing across his jaw as her other hand settled on his knee. His eyes widened slightly, lips parted as she pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. _"Tease._ "  
  
The growl that came out afterwards sent a grin spreading across her face as she stood to her feet, pressing a kiss to two fingers before sliding it across the topside of her mothers two year old gravestone. "I do try to impress you, Mr. Reese." She mused, swaying her hips from side to side, desperately trying to ignore John gawking at her. "Now, do come along, handsome. We have a number to save, or stop. Maybe both."  
  
"You're going to be the death of me one day."  
  
Delaney turned to him as she stood on the sidewalk, a mere passerby amongst the throng of New Yorker as she and John began walking in the direction of their Library. There was an emotion he didn't recognize in her eyes, mainly because she'd never shown it in front of him before. _Acceptance._ "Lets hope that day never comes, pretty boy."  
  
<><><><><>  
On their way back to the apartment, John had received the address for their number, Sarah Atkins. The two of them rode in a taxi cab to the apartment complex, using his lockpicking skills to break into her apartment and await her return. Delaney sat cross legged on the bed, her red fedora tipped over her face as she anxiously twirled her thumbs in her lap.  
  
"Ease up, Del. You're supposed to be menacing."  
  
The younger woman snorted, winking at John from beneath the brim of her hat as they both heard a window open. "This is coming from the assassin who in reality is an actual teddy bear and just doesn't like to show it. So, in another word-" She flipped him the bird, causing John to snicker quietly under his breath. " _Shut up."_  
  
Both of their heads turned as Sarah Atkins entered her apartment, gun raised directly at Delaneys forehead. "Who are you two? How did you get into my apartment?" Delaney sighed, running her fingers over the brim of her hat before standing to her feet. "Are you cops?"  
  
"No, but we are two people who want to help you. Now do us a favor, and put the gun down before someone really gets hurt." Sarah reluctantly agreed, setting her gun on the window as John stood to his feet. "We know you're running from someone. Boyfriend? Ex? Husband?" Sarah's face fell at the word, and Delaney could help but gasp softly. "So.. Husband then. John? She's all yours."  
  
  
"What if I said you could stop running, Sarah?"  
  
Delaney leaned forward on the balls of her feet, lips pursed as Sarah met her eyes. Almost immediately did she recognize the one emotion lurking in them. _Fear._ "I'd say you don't know my husband." John became silent at that moment, speaking to Finch through his earpiece as she took the window of opportunity to speak to the woman. "Are you an victim too? You seem to read me well."  
  
"No, I'm just good at reading people. Reason why I know so much about your situation is because I had a friend who died from something similar. Still haunts me to this day." She hesitantly placed a hand on Sarahs shoulder, managing a small smile as John sighed and stood behind her. "Don't worry, Sarah. We're going to get you through this."  
  
"How did you know my husband was a Marshall?"  
  
"That doesn't matter. What's important is that you stay here, I'll have Delaney stay with you."  
  
Sarah swallowed nervously, tugging on the ends of her long curls. "What is it you're going to do?" She murmured. John managed a small smile and leaned forward, lightly squeezing Delaneys hip as he brushed past her.  
  
"Make it so you don't have to be afraid anymore." Her heart swelled as John pressed his lips to her temple, inhaling deeply before releasing his grip on her. "You be careful, you hear me?" It wasn't an intimate statement, but it was enough to convey how much he cared about her safety. "Stay safe."  
  
"I'm not dyin' without you by my side, Mr. Reese!"  
It was nearly a quarter of an hour later when her phone began to ring, Joss Carters caller ID blinking at her across the front screen. Delaney cursed quietly under her breath, amber eyes flickering between Sarah and her phone before she stepped out into the hallway to answer the call. "Hello?"   
  
" _Why didn't you tell me you knew about Peter Arndt?_ "   
From her side of the line, it was quite obvious that Joss was borderline furious for her not confessing what she'd known about New Rochelle and all that had taken place there. "Joss.." She breathed, running a hand over her face. "I was there when Jessica died, and I was the one who told him to run. Believe me, he's not dead."   
  
"You know, technically I should arrest you right now for withholding a testimony. But you have bigger problems at hand, like Agent Donnelly and his investigation into you and John." Joss then began to explain the FBI investigation she'd been pulled into, and how everything around New Rochelle focused on finding out Johns part in it. "He wants The Lady In Red In chains, along with her boyfriend."   
  
"John's not my boyfriend."   
  
Joss snorted lightly. "You keep telling yourself that, Chrysler. I'll make sure to keep you updated." Delaney snapped her phone shut, turning back to the door of the apartment when she felt a slight draft brush against her skin. _Where did she go?_ Much to her dismay, Sarah had snapped her cellphone in half and left through the window with no trace as to where she went.   
  
"Finch? We may have a problem. Sarah's gone."

  
***  
  
The three of them dove into their vehicle at the same time right outside the train station in Central Manhattan. "The Marshalls already picked her up. How are we supposed to find her?" John muttered, his fingers curling around the steering wheel. Delaneys eyes lit up as she reached for Finch's laptop, fingers flying across the keys.   
  
"Your fellow tech advisor speaking, all government cars now have hotspots for wifi access for your daily trip around New York." Her voice was very monotone as she pulled up a map of Manhattan, several red dots of other Marshall cars blinking at the three of them. "Now we just have to find out which one is Jennings."  
  
Johns finger hovered over the dot moving further and further up north. "That one. He's taking her out of the city to make her disappear for good." His eyes darkened as he turned towards Finch. "Both of you, out of the car." Finch immediately obliged, but Delaney crawled over the passengers seat and took a spot next to John. "Delaney-"   
  
"You're not kicking me out of this car, John Reese." She snapped, handing Finch his laptop before John took off speeding down the road. "We both have the same goal in mind, and I intend to stick this number through and save her. So shut up and drive."   
  
Dusk soon fell, and Johns partner soon fell asleep in the chair beside him, her head lolling as he passed over bumps and curves in the road. Guilt had crept in once he'd realized what he was doing; killing Deputy Jennings in front of the one woman who he wanted to never think of him for what he truly was. _A monster._  
  
" _Mr Reese?_ "   
  
John rested his hand against Delaneys knee, slowly tracing circles on the fabric of her jeans. ''What is it Finch?"   
  
" _What exactly is your plan when you catch up to Deputy Jennings?"_  
  
  
He paused for a moment, his tongue darting out to lick at his dried lips. He knew in his heart exactly what he wanted to do. John wanted to make this right as a sort of " _fix it_ " to Jessica's unfortunate death. If he couldn't save the woman he had once loved from her abusive husband, then he would save another one from hers. Even if it took the most drastic of measures. "To get Sarah away from him."   
  
" _And Deputy Jennings?_ "   
  
"Jennings had his chance, and he blew it."

Delaney shifted on her side, eyes open as she studied Johns tense body language in the darkness of their vehicle. "Finch is right, John. I think it's time to pull in the police on this one. Maybe it's for the best."   
  
"You're the one who told me that you were going to stick by me for the entire time working on this number." His deep voice rumbled against the car, and the pent up fury lurking in his words sent a shiver down her spine. _We're just damaged goods._ "Has that changed because of what I'm going to do to Jennings?"   
  
"No." She whispered, resting her hand on top of his own. "I'm trying to stay on the path that doesn't lead to my falling apart. Emotionally, physically, mentally. I fell apart a _long_ time ago and it took me months to piece myself back together. I can do the same for you, John. You just have to trust me."   
  
"I do trust you."   
  
A soft laugh left her lips as she leaned back against the seat, her eyes studying the long stretch of road in front of her. "If you trusted me John, you would actually open your ears and listen to what I'm trying to tell you." John pulled up beside an dilapidated motel, turning the car off as it came to an abrupt stop. He took her hand in his own and brushed his lips against her palm as slowly as he possibly could, trying to convey how he _really_ felt about her. If words wouldn't do it, then tender touches would.   
  
  
"Stay here." 

_And so it begins._


	15. And Everything Was Good

  
" _You've never been in love before, have you?"  
John scoffed at Marshall Jennings, who was curled in on himself on the floor, blood dripping on the floor as it poured from his nose. "Why?"  
He was suddenly glad at that moment that Delaney had decided to stay in the car, away from the man he'd become in her absence from his life. He was the true monster in this world, and she didn't deserve it. "Because if you have been, you know it's never truly over."_  
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>  


Delaney shivered as she continued trekking down the stretch of road, desperate to hear the siren of Joss Carters vehicle that was coming to pick her up. John had been inside the motel for over an hour, so she had assumed the worst had happened and called Joss as her backup.   
  
"Is Jennings dead?"   
She exhaled a shaky breath and ran a hand over her face as she entered Joss' car. "Please don't even suggest the possibility because I can almost guarantee you that he is. Or he's taking him somewhere far away where the police won't find evidence of a body." 

Joss cursed under her breath as they pulled up on the rear of Johns vehicle, blue and red lights flashing amidst the darkness as both cars came to a slow stop. "I'm going to kill him." Joss muttered, slamming the door shut as they both intercepted John on the left side of the vehicle. "Your friend told me I might find you up this way. Should I pull out the good cop, bad cop routine?"   
  
"Is Delaney with you?" John murmured, turning his head to study the other figure who had appeared at his window. "When I came out and you weren't in the car, I may have had a mini heart attack. Warn me next time, why don't you." The brunette knelt beside the man who was slowly closing in on the fortress of her heart, wielding the battering ram that would soon break down the main gate.   
  
"You don't have to do this, John. This isn't some sort of retribution for Jessica. Let Joss take him back to the 8th, and leave all of this behind." Johns eyes snapped over to her as she took his hand, resting it against the cool skin of her cheek. His thumb slowly traced over her cheekbones as she rested her other hand against the car door, trying to pull herself closer to him. But John was always _so far away._  
  
"Do I need to look in the trunk, John?" Joss pressed, hands placed firmly at her hips.   
  
"You can do whatever you want. Doesn't change what I have to do. If I let you have him, he'll get away with it." Her heart sank as she yanked herself out of Johns grip, her eyes pricked with unshed tears.

"If you won't do it for me, do it for her. Isn't that enough?"   
  
"There are things you can do, and things you can't do, Detective. And that's where I come in." Delaney stomped her foot against the concrete, gripping the ends of her hair. _Does this idiot ever listen to reason?  
  
"_John, she and I _both_ can't just let you _execute_ people!" 

"Delaney, this has never been on you. It's on _me._ " John snapped, his voice deadly serious. "You're too pure, too good for someone like me. All I'm asking for, from both of you, is your trust!"   
  
Her heart sank as a realization suddenly came to mind. "Oh, you beautiful idiot." She murmured, wrapping her fingers around Joss' wrist. "Let him go, Joss. I know where his heart is." Adoration filled her eyes as Johns lips turned up slightly, a smile gracing his chiseled face. "He'll do the right thing."   
  
_iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou_

It was there. Her heart, her words, everything sat on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be spoken. Words that should have been spoken ages ago, words he'd most likely fear to hear from her lips, words John had been needing since they'd been split apart. " _Why_ did we let him go? He's going to execute Jennings!" Joss shrieked. Delaney merely chuckled and walked back to the car, opening the passenger door.   
  
"Awe Carter, you just don't know John yet." She replied. "Like I said, his hearts in the right place, and all he's asking for is your trust. You just have to show him that he has it." Carter tilted her head, a sign she wasn't completely understanding the point. "Even though John may have been a killer in the past, he's not now and he never will be. He's The Man In The Suit, New Yorks unnamed vigilante. He saves people."   
  
The next thing Carter spoke caught Delaney completely off guard as they began their trip back to Manhattan. "Do you love him?" It was spoken so quietly that if the car hadn't been silent, she may not have heard it. Delaney slowly turned her head, a photo of a engraved ring flashing before her eyes.   
  
"Yeah. He just doesn't know it yet."   
  
***  
The next morning, Delaney and Finch both sat on the same bench Finch had first met John, the warm spring wind whistling through the leaves as they awaited their friends arrival. "How's your tea?" Finch murmured, his eyes never leaving the murky waters of the Hudson.   
  
"Luke warm." She replied, snickering as Finch rolled his eyes playfully. "Like everything else in New York. What else is new?" The crack of a twig drew them both to Johns arrival as Delaney stood up, giving him the ability to take her spot on the bench. "Well, hello to you too. I thought we weren't going to see you again."  
  
"Well, I can't leave my best girl behind, now can I?" John mused, lightly nudging her side as he sat down beside Finch. "Besides, I had some business to take care of outside of town." Delaney sat down on the edge of the bench, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of Johns coat.  
  
"I trust you know now why I couldn't tell you about Sarahs case." John pursed his lips, reaching to the side to grab the brunette womans hand and trace circles on her palm.  
  
"And I trust that you now know why you should've." He answered softly. Silence took the place of conversation as the three of them stared at the Hudson, thoughts of Jessica and New Rochelle brewing in their minds. But none of them wanted to ask the one question John was already waiting to ask. "Did you know? Was she one of those numbers that came up again and again?"  
  
Both men watched as Delaney stood to her feet, pulling her coat closer to her body as she walked closer to the river. _And she was the most beautiful woman John had ever met in his life._ "What I know, Mr. Reese, is that New Rochelle happened before you, me, and Miss Chrysler started working together. She herself played an integral part in the disappearance of Peter Arndt, and was one of the last people to speak to Jessica before she died. But because of the circumstances, there was nothing that either of us could've done. It just.. It was inevitable." Finch reached into the inner pockets of his coat, producing a white card with an address scrawled across the back. "I forgot to include this with your birthday present. I think you'll like the addition."  
  
 **810 Baxter Street  
Apt 5A  
Comes with one beautiful woman**  
  
John snorted softly as he stood to his feet, whistling to draw Delaney's attention to him. She quirked an eyebrow as he extended his arm for her to take. "Can we have coffee now? I have an apartment to get back to, and apparently it comes with one beautiful woman."  
  
''Yes, we can have coffee now. Besides," She flashed him a wink, her lips brushing the underside of his jaw as they walked back towards the street. A grin spread across her face as a red hot blush crept up his neck to the center of his cheeks. It wasn't often someone could make an ex-CIA assassin who turned him emotions off blush. "We have _alot_ of talking to do."  
  
***  
  
John's apartment was... well... In another word, enormous.  
  
Delaney felt her jaw drop at the sight of the place; modern, with white accents in just about every corner, with windows that overlooked the plaza where John played chess with Han on occasion. She sat her coat down on the bed and immediately went to the kitchen, searching for something to drink. The coffee she'd ordered before meeting John simply had not done the job. "You know, if you want me to cook, you can just ask."  
  
She felt her heart smack rather hard against her sternum when John leaned against the doorway of the kitchen. He had mussed with his salt and pepper hair, letting it haphazardly hang in his steely blue eyes. His toned chest was bare, and he wore a pair of low hanging sweat pants on his narrow hips. "Since when can you cook?"  
  
"Since after you left the CIA. Just tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen."  
  
Flipping her head down, she flipped her short hair back over her shoulders and walked towards John. The apartment was so quiet in that moment that you could probably hear the synchronized pounding of their heartbeats. "I want you to _tell me_ how much I mean to you, John." She whispered, her voice barely audible as her fingers trailed down his arm. "You don’t have to be afraid of me. Just.. Tell me how you feel."  
  
He swallowed thickly, his hands reaching out to grip at her hips, pulling her as humanly close to him as possible. Her hand reached upward to trace his lips with one finger, his other hand tangling itself in her hair. Ever since Delaney had disappeared from his life and left him alone in the CIA with no one but Mark Snow and Kara Stanton, all he had ever wanted was what he now had. _Her heart._  
  
And John was never going to let go of it again.  
  
"You're the only person I trust besides Finch. And when you vanished from my life... I thought I was done for." He lead her back towards the bed on the main floor of the apartment, resting her flat on her back as he straddled her waist. "I thought I had no point of living if you were dead. I'd considered throwing myself into the Hudson on more then one occasion." Her eyes filled with tears as Johns warm, tender hands rolled up the bottom of her shirt, exposing the flesh of her stomach to him.  
  
" _John."_  
  
He bent his head down and pressed a tender kiss on her abdomen, before laying feather light kisses all over her stomach. He then proceeded to take her face in his hands, gently rubbing her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "And then your number came up after I started working with Finch, and I can not begin to explain to you how ecstatic I was. There you were, my best friend, the woman who I trust most, _breathing and still fighting."_ He seemed at a loss for words as she slowly lifted her head, capturing his lips with her own in a gentle kiss.  
  
John tilted his head, his hands pinning her own at her sides as he deepened their kiss. She gasped into his mouth as he slowly began to explore every inch of her mouth, not allowing her hands to move. Delaney tasted like frappucino with the slightest hint of mint lingering on her tongue. His teeth pulled on her bottom lip, eliciting a moan from her mouth as their lips parted and he began to memorize the curve of her neck that drove him insane. "That's not fair. I can't use my hands _._ " She breathed softly, grinning as his other hand ran over the top of her thigh.  
  
"And my God, Delaney Anne.." He whispered softly, nuzzling the inside of her neck. "That was when I knew that I had been in love with you all this time." Much to his surprise, John found that when he rolled off of Delaney, she was using her hands to cover her face as she cried. "Why are you crying? Did I-"  
  
"Say something wrong? No John, you said exactly what I've been waiting to hear since the first time I kissed you." She replied, wiping her eyes and jogging into the kitchen. John followed behind, raising an eyebrow as she produced a numerous amount of ingredients and a package of chicken breasts. "Amaze me, John Reese. Make my taste buds crave more."  
  
"Isn't this where I ask you to be my secret girlfriend?"  
  
The laughter that came from her lips sent chills down his spine. "Secret? There's no one to tell except maybe Carter and Lionel. Zoe finds out everything in due time. Finch _included_ a beautiful woman with the apartment." John reflexively caught the bottle of oregano she threw at him from the counter and rounded the island, turning the stove on and setting to work. "Plus, wise guy, _I already said yes._ "


	16. Firewall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They take on a number that might just risk their covers being blown by the FBI.

Carter cursed under her breath as she followed Special Agent Donnelly into a larger room of the Precinct occupied by both the FBI and NYPD officers. "Criminals, no matter how clever, always slip up."  
"Mind telling me what this is about?"  
  
"The Man In The Suit _and_ The Lady In Red?" He mused, nodding to the overhead screens in front of them. "We got them." Sure enough, on screen Delaney Chrysler and John Reese were quickly walking in a darkened alley, flanking a younger woman who looked to be in the medical field, terror written across her face.  
<><><><><><>  


_ 5:30 AM  _

The sun was just barely rising over the skyline of New York as Delaney Chrysler slowly began to stir from her sleep, shifting her weight beneath the muscular arm thrown carelessly over her waist. Her eyes scanned the sleeping form of John Reese, whose face was buried in his pillow, his lips slightly parted as he breathed deeply. It was a rare sight to catch John in such a vulnerable state; where he was completely unconscious, calm, not saving anyones lives.  
  
Finch was normally up about now, so it wouldn't be much longer before he called in with a new number. She quietly raised her hand, her fingertips gently ghosting over the laughter lines that were beginning to etch into his skin, the contours of his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his eyelids. Just as her fingers went to trace the shape of his lips, Johns steely blue eyes slowly fluttered open, blurry with sleep. "What're you doing sweetheart?" He rumbled lowly, his voice thick with exhaustion. It would be another hour before he was fully awake.  
  
"Admiring you when you sleep. Let me tell you, you're even more attractive when you sleep. It's hard to not stare at you."  
  
John shifted, stretching his aching limbs as he pulled his girlfriend on top of him, grinning when she straddled his waist. "I never said I didn't like it, Delaney." He whispered, his fingers massaging the skin of her thighs as Delaney bent her head and laid a kiss on the scar above his collarbone. He sat up slowly, his back pressed against the headboard as he gently brushed his nose against Delaneys, his hands wrapped around her waist.  
  
Neither of them needed to speak as Delaney thread her fingers through Johns hair, allowing herself to succumb to the intensity of Johns kisses as her chest brushed against his, his hands sliding underneath her tanktop to gently knead the flesh of her stomach. A chill ran down her spine as he lightly pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth, cursing under his breath as he ran out of oxygen, forced to pull away. "Now if I can wake up to _that_ every morning, I'll be set for the rest of my life." She whispered, deep red dusting across her face as she flipped her hair behind her shoulders, her focus now on the scars that were displayed on Johns chest. "I'll get out your suit if you can make me my favorite breakfast."  
  
"Eggs and bacon? That's such a simple breakfast." John grumbled. He couldn't pass the way the smile fell from her beautifully pale face, and so he complied. "Alright. You know I'd do anything to make you happy." She grinned widely, pressing a kiss to his cheek before sprinting up the stairs and into the bathroom to shower. "You'll be the end of me, Delaney Anne!"  
  
He could feel his erratic heartbeat in his throat as she popped her head out the door, strands of unkempt brown hair hanging carelessly over her bright eyes. "Oh, John Reese... You always wanted the woman you adored to be the end of you. Now your dreams have just become real."  
  
 _6 AM_  
  
"Mr. Reese, Miss Chrysler. I'm surprised you got her out of bed, John." Delaney unwound herself from Johns arm, glaring at the billionaire who stood in front of her. "What have you two been doing lately?"  
  
It wasn't as if she would spread secrets about her relationship with John to Finch, despite how much she trusted him. John preferred to keep his personal life and professional life split apart from one another so they wouldn't clash, and the PDA was always kept behind closed doors or in secret. When he was on the job, she did her best to protect him, and he her. That was how their relationship was; protecting each other from the dangers that lay outside.  
  
"We've been harassing Fusco, Finch. Poor guy can barely take anymore." She mused, eyes flickering between the two men as she casually sipped the bottle of water she'd stored in her satchel. Delaney carefully listened into the intel on their newest number; a young psychologist by the name of Caroline Turing who specialized in high end clients who tended to stick on the side of discretion. "Miss Chrysler, you will be working as Johns backup, if the dilemma of him needing it arises. Otherwise, I'll also need your technical support."  
  
"I have a better idea, Finch."  
  
After careful investigating by John, both men elected Delaney to call on Turing as her psychologist, sending the younger woman to her morning appointment. "Looks like it's time for you to work on some of your issues, Miss Chrysler." Finch said, chuckling as the brunette rose an eyebrow, flipping him off through the thermostats camera. "Mr. Reese is waiting just downstairs."  
  
Delaney entered Turings office, white knuckles clutching her handbag as she studied the line of bookcases that covered the front wall. Caroline stood by her desk, rummaging through her notepad to a clear page, pen poised in her hand as she prepared to write notes down. "So what is it you do, Miss.."  
  
"Clearwater. Delaney Clearwater." Delaney flashed a kind smile, which helped the tension in Turings body language to recede almost immediately. After her meeting with Hans, it was nice to meet another woman who cared more about the wellbeing of others beside herself. "I'm a freelancer with Zoe Morgan, helping people with their problems. In all honesty, it’s really not an important job."  
  
"I'm not so sure. I find that business is often personal with my patients. My clients are private people, and I respect that. I will protect it at all costs." Caroline stated cooly, leaning against her chair as she watched Delaney pace the length of her office. "I have a distinct feeling I know why you're here, Miss Clearwater. You seem as if you're nervous."  
  
"Force of habit, my apologies." Delaney confessed, her thumbnail locked between her teeth as she nervously chewed. It was the best way to play Turing into thinking she was always nervous, scanning for threats everywhere she went due to constant paranoia. It had been a habit of hers as a child that she had never really broken, but more made the decision to not let her problems ruin her life. "Can I have something to drink?"  
  
"I'll get you some water."  
  
She quickly snapped photos of Carolines schedule, sending them to Finchs private number through her phone. As Caroline set down her glass of water, Delaney took a seat on the sofa parallel to her, waiting for the conversation to begin. Psychologists made her edgy, their constant prying into her past sending her down a path she never wanted to fall on again. Better her be here then John. "I'm sorry I seem so agitated, Miss Turing. It's a force of habit."  
  
"I noticed it through your body language, Delaney. Can I call you that?" Her voice was sympathetic as Delaney firmly nodded, fingers tapping the arm of the couch in constant rhythm. "You told me to close the blinds almost as soon as you walked in, so you obviously don't favor windows. What is it you're afraid of?"  
  
It was then her entire posture changed at Carolines question, her eyes darkening, radiant with guilt. "I was just about to ask you the same thing, Caroline. You've got a panic button underneath your desk." Carolines eyes lit up with curiosity as she tilted her head, studying the woman in front of her.  
  
Before she spoke the thought lingering in her head, Caroline Turing leaned forward on her knees, her voice deadly serious as she spoke words Delaney Chrysler would never forget. "You think you're damaged goods, don't you?" She replied, her tone serious. "No one is past the point of no return, Miss Chrysler. You just have to stop mentally destroying yourself and _start living_ the kind of life that makes other people jealous you're living it."  
  
***  
  
"The question is, who hired them?"   
  
Delaney ran a hand through her hair, obviously agitated with the way her appointment had gone, and took her place beside John at the window where he was closely observing Caroline from a far. '' _Someone with tremendous means wants Caroline Turing gone. I've enlisted the aid of an old friend to help us figure out who."_ Delaney turned around, grinning widely as Zoe Morgan stepped through the door.   
  
"She's cute." Zoe replied. "I'm glad you're getting some help, but I don't think there's a woman out there alive who could fix you John. Not even your precious partner over there."   
  
"Are you here to set us up, or to help us solve this case?" Delaney scolded, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at her lifelong friend. It had been several months since they'd seen one another, and she still had yet to tell Zoe that she and John were actually dating. But given the side glance from him, it came to her attention that was the least of their concerns at the moment. "Her name's Caroline Turing."   
  
"Well, next to bartenders, men like to spill their secrets to female shrinks. Keeps them from talking to their wives." Zoe interjected, crossing her toned legs as she took a seat across from Delaney. "They value discretion."   
  
"Do you know who any of her patients are?"   
  
"A few, but she's got an impressive lot. I've narrowed it down to three players." Zoe removed three photographs from her purse, spreading them out across the table. "Hans Fredrickson, the lawyer who threatened her? Supposedly he's away on a business trip right now." Delaney wrinkled her nose at the photo, sliding it to the side to avoid looking at the man in it. "Patient number two, banker named Terrence Baxter. Rumor is he's being investigated. And then there's David Sarceezian, he's a city official. Whispers are he's sleeping with his intern."   
  
John chuckled as Delaney snorted rather loudly, causing several people to look in her direction. "Of _course_ he's sleeping with his intern, because that's what every New York official does! They're all sleazy, hypocritical cheapskates who care about nothing but _themselves._ " She growled, flipping over the stack of photos, trying to ignore the skeptical looks John and Zoe were both flashing her. "And before you ask, yes. I do have some knowledge on the lives of higher up in our beloved city. My brother in law happens to be one of them. One of the good ones, anyways."  


"Looks like our shrink is sitting on a powder keg of secrets." John murmured, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt as he leaned in closer to Delaney, his chest brushing the side of her shoulder, his lips mere inches away from the top of her head.   
  
"Which could be lucrative if you play your cards right. Or deadly if you don't."  
  
Later on that night, Delaney and John were exploring the path Caroline took home from work every night when Delaney stepped directly into Carolines path, causing her to jump out of her skin. "Delaney? What're you doing here? And who is this?"  
  
"Doc, it's probably not a good night for a walk." She murmured quickly. Caroline's dark brown eyes flickered between the two people in front of her, studying their tense body language, their hands firmly wrapped around the guns hidden on themselves. _Military._  
  
"Delaney, this is not okay. Were you following me?"  
  
She took a deep breath, intending to respond, but John spoke up first. "Let me call you a cab, Miss Turing." Caroline laughed quietly under her breath, shaking her head in disbelief.  
  
"I should've known your significant other would have a military background as well." She murmured, almost to herself. "Look, Delaney... There's no boogeyman here. You're not overseas anymore, _either of you_. There's nothing lurking behind every corner. You just think there is."  
  
"Caroline-"  
  
Caroline held up a hand for her to stop. "I walk this way every night, my subway station is just up the street. Go home, try to get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" Delaney huffed and nodded firmly, finger still wrapped around the trigger of her Ruger LC9s. Both of them watched as Caroline turned on her heel, continuing down the path where a hooded assailant was waiting to finish his job.  
  
"Can I save this woman now?" Delaney pleaded. John extended his hand, his own gun drawn to take out the other assailant behind her. Caroline gasped as John slammed the first perpetrator into the nearest pole, followed by Delaney delivering two shots to the hooded assailants kneecaps. Breathing heavily, she turned back to the frightened psychologist and slid her gun back into the waistband of her jeans. " _Do you believe me now?_ "


	17. She's Not Who She Says She Is

<><><><><><><>  
  
 _"I know we haven't been working together forever, Finch.. But I have a special place saved in my heart saved for you." Delaney knelt down beside Harold, placing her hand over top of his own as his eyes met hers from behind his thick rimmed glasses. "And if anything were to ever happen to you.. I don't know if I could forgive myself."_  
  
<><><><><><><><>

"John, inside the hotel." Delaney demanded, pressing the tip of her finger against her ear piece as the three of them ducked inside the nearest hotel. If the cops patrolling the street were HR, it wouldn't be long before a group of them found their hideway spot for the night. "Hi. We'd like a room please."

The redheaded clerk flashed a smile, searching for an available room on the computer. ''The only room we have available is the honeymoon suite at three thousand dollars per night." She replied, eyes widening as John slid his credit card, gifted to him by Finch, in her direction.  
  
"We'll take it." He replied, wincing as her hand brushed against his. Pursing her lips, she frowned as he struggled to make a fist by curling his fingers, which were stained red with his own blood. "There's too many cops out in the neighborhood. We'll need to lay low in the hotel until morning."

" _Miss Chrysler? I'm working on an escape route as we speak!"_  
  
"Thanks Finch." Delaney deadpanned, grumbling as she pulled her hair into a ponytail, her neck slick with sweat. "We're in a bit of a tough spot here, so anything will work at this point."  
  
"Great. Now you're hearing voices."  
  
She turned on her heel, eyes narrowed in on Caroline as the three of them entered the elevator that would take them to their room. "No Caroline, I'm not. He's-" John gently squeezed her hip, something that had become a habit of his since they'd begun working numbers together as a couple.  
  
"He's a friend of ours." John said calmly. "A very resourceful friend."  
  
Caroline entered the room first, wringing her hands anxiously as she began to pace the length of the room. "Who would want to kill me?" She said carefully, eyes searching for answers as they flickered between Delaney and John, who was having his hand cleaned with alcohol. "I can't breathe.. I can't move. This must be what panic feels like."  
  
Her heart warmed as John took a piece of chocolate off of the counter and rested it in Carolines hand. "Here. Have some chocolate." He said quietly, his eyes flickering to Delaney as she came out of the bathroom, her hair dripping wet with water.  
  
"Will this help to produce an adrenaline response?"  
  
"No, but they taste good."  
  
"Who _are_ you two?"  
  
Delaney wrapped her arms around Johns broad shoulders as he knelt in front of the petrified psychologist, who as the night went on, was making her more and more suspicious of who she really was. Most civilians would've started screaming or crying at this point, but Caroline was calmer then most. _But why?_ "Let's just say we're two people who help others cope with their problems. We just use a much more hands on approach."  
  
"Look Caroline, we promise that we'll tell you when it's time to panic." She nodded solemnly, taking her chocolate and venturing out onto the balcony that overlooked the neighborhood. John turned around in her arms, eyes bloodshot with exhaustion, his wounded hand trembling. "You look like crap."  
  
Despite the pain in his hand and the end of his adrenaline pumping through his body, John Reese let out a laugh so hysterical that his eyes began to well up with tears. "That's the best thing I've heard probably all night." He replied, managing a wide grin as Delaney shook her head. "I'm glad you're here with me, Del."  
  
She leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to his cheek before flipping her hair upside down to tie it in a makeshift bun on the top of her head. "And I'm glad you're always protecting me, John."  
  
***  
  
As predicted, a squad of cops from HR pulled up outside the hotel a few hours later. "Finch, we need an escape plan. The cops are here." Delaney spoke urgently, the hood of her grey hoodie flying carelessly in the wind. John and Caroline were both bent over the edge of the railing, studying the cops rushing to get inside the hotel.  
  
" _So going down isn't an option... I'll look into it."_ It wasn't a moment too soon before Finch spoke again, this time to the both of them. " _Mr Reese, Miss Chrysler, I think I may have found a way. The previous occupant of the Penthouse was sent to jail for tax evasion, but the IRS has yet to seize his things-"_  
  
"For the love of _God_ , Finch. Please get to the point!"  
  
"You're both good at stealing cars, but who's better at flying helicopters?" Delaney immediately jabbed her thumb at John, forgetting that Finch was in the Library and could not see them.  
  
"I'm out. John, the floors all yours!"  
  
John cursed under his breath. "It's been a while since I've flown, but I'm sure I'll manage."  
  
" _If not... It's a short fall._ "  
  
Delaney crept out into the hall first, gun poised high in the air as she took point on getting them to the roof, where the helicopter Finch had spoken of was waiting. Rounding the staircase, Caroline finally decided to speak up once again. "You two saving me... Is this making up for someone that you didn't save?"  
  
Her mind flashed back to Jessica's unmoving body the night in New Rochelle, and Delaney felt her entire body freeze at an instant on the staircase. John gripped her upper arms, desperate for a way to draw her out of her trnace. "I thought we were done with therapy?" He exclaimed, cupping her face in his hands. Eyes wide, Delaneys gaze fell onto Johns comforting face inches away from hers, and she took a deep breath before continuing up the stairs.  
  
"Talking about both of your issues helps distract me from mine."  
  
"Who said we both had issues?" John inquired, his face contorting as the both of them stopped in the middle of the stairwell. "Wait. It sounds like a helicopter." Sure enough, the bright headlights of a helicopter landing on the roof appeared into view, and the three of them began their way back down he stairs.  
  
"Isn't that what we want?!"  
  
"Yeah, but we haven't stolen it yet!!"  
  
***  
  
Detective Joss Carter stood inside of a surveillance room teeming with FBI agents and NYPD detectives, following the soon to be "capture" of The Man In The Suit and his accomplice, The Lady In Red. Her eyes carefully followed their path through the hotel to the service tunnel that lead to the water treatment plant at the seaport.  
  
Delaney Chrysler had become a good friend to her since their first meeting in 2010, and now that she knew how the other woman felt about John, she wasn't about to have the feds take either of them into custody. Pulling out her cellphone, she typed four simple words and sent them to The Lady In Red.  
  
She came to an abrupt stop, raising her hand to stop the two people behind her.  
  
_Joss_  
  
 **Stop. Go back. Now.**  
  
"John, you take point. I'll feed you Carters directions from behind." Delaney murmured, careful to not be heard by any nearby agents. John nodded almost instantly, straightening his spine as they backtracked to another potential exit. Carter continued to feed directions through Delaneys cellphone, and she silently thanked God that Joss Carter existed in her life to begin with.  
  
All because she'd run away.  
  
 **Go.**  
  
Delaney quickly responded with **When we get out of here, John's buying celebratory coffee. On the house.** As they entered the elevator that would lead them to the tunnel, Carter responded to her text message.  
  
 **Carter: It's about time. Get off the elevator!! HR is on 25!!**  
  
"John, press the 26 button!" Delaney shrieked softly, sighing as John pressed his thumb against the Floor 26 button. "HR is on 25, and God knows where the Feds are. How much ammo do you have?"  
  
"Enough to take down the dirty cops in the building." John handed Caroline an unknown contraption, determination written on his face as Delaney stood in front of him, prepared to shoot anyone who got in their way. "Open the fire safety panel, see if you can short the wires until the over-ride light comes on. We can bypass the floor below."  
  
"Delaney, I think I owe you an apology." Caroline spoke up, her fingers wrapped around the wires in the circuit box.  
  
"How do you figure?"  
  
"I diagnosed you as paranoid." It was stated so simply that she couldn't help but laugh as she and John peered out from parallel walls. Caroline was amazed at how well the two of them worked together with almost no initial conversation, like they had been doing it for _years.  
  
"_Oh, dear Caroline.." Her voice dripped with venom as she flicked the safety of her gun off. "Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're trying to kill you. I've been paranoid for twenty plus years now, and part of it is Johns fault."  
  
"My fault? Where did _that_ come from?!"  
  
"Years of training in bootcamp, the Army, and like 9 months in the CIA!" She exclaimed, leaning against the wall as she met Johns accentuated, bright eyes, a grin spreading across her face. Dread replaced her grin as her phone pinged once again, signaling another text from Carter.  
  
 **Coming for you NOW!!**  
  
"We're out of time." John replied, almost as if he could read it from the expression on her face. "Stay behind the two of us and we'll try to hold them off as long as we possibly can."  
  
"Hey Finch? We're in a bit of a bind here. I hope you have something good to tell me."  
  
When no agents appeared in front of them, Finch decided to speak up almost at the precise moment Caroline overrode the controls on the elevator. "I trust you can still hear me, Mr Reese? Delaney?" Delaney breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the elevator with John, dropping past the other occupied floors straight to the tunnel that lead to their rendezvous point.  
  
"You know Finch, we've been working together for some time now, and you still continue to surprise me."  
  
" _Likewise. You and Miss Chrysler should have a competitive advantage now. I'll meet you at the seaport!"_  
  
The three of them sprinted into the tunnel, coming out at a parking garage where a dark blue car sat. "That's Simmons car, John." Delaney called out. "It's probably got gear we can take in it. Pop the trunk." Sure enough, there were three guns inside the trunk, and John handed her the smallest of the three. "I'll take Caroline to the door. You keep watch." She broke the lock on the door that led outside, peering into the hole that a yellow, rickety ladder ascended from. "This comes out to a water treatment plant by the river. Keep going till you find my friend. _Go._ "  
  
"Delaney? Thank you."  
  
Her stomach turned as Caroline vanished, and gunfire began to ring out from behind her. Whether or not she knew the _real_ identity behind Caroline Turing, she was sure that their paths would cross again sometime soon. " _Hey Delaney! A little help would be nice!_ "

"Looks like you're just about out of time, my friend!" Simmons yelled out above the screeching of tires as Joss Carter and Lionel Fusco drove inside the garage, just after Delaney managed a lucky shot to Simmons shoulder. "Screw you!!"  
  
"Pleased to make your acquaintance, moron!" She snapped, forcing John inside the car as Fusco and Carter laid down cover fire. "I got our number to safety. By the way, you're welcome." John glared at her through narrowed eyes, smirking as Joss and Fusco clambered back inside the car and sped off after two of Simmons lackeys.  
  
Blood pumping and adrenaline pouring through her veins, Delaney casually leaned on John, who was flipping the detonator for the bomb inside the other car in his hands. "Why didn't either of you tell us we were both working with you?!"

"To protect you."  
  
Fusco snorted and shook his head. "Protect us? You almost got me killed. If you can't trust us, how are we supposed to trust you? Either of you?"  
  
In hindsight, the Detective was right. They both should've told Joss and Fusco that they were working with one another as opposed to against one another at the very beginning. "Trust is complicated Lionel. For example, I'm sitting in a police car with one cop who tried to murder me, and another who spent six months trying to lock me up. Let's not even get started on how you and Delaney actually met in the first place."  
  
"I knocked Fusco out so hard that one of his teeth fell out when he picked me up from a bar. That was a good night." John pulled the detonator out from where he'd stored in it in his coat, folding her fingers over the trigger. "May I do the honors, Pretty Boy?"  
  
"It would be my pleasure." He replied, the hint of a smirk on his face as John leaned against the seat and crossed his arms behind his head, waiting for the real show to begin.  
  
Delaney leaned forward and grinned widely. "Fasten your seatbelts, ladies and gentleman. And while you're at it Carter, you may want to slow your car down!" She exclaimed, thumb poised over the trigger as Carter reluctantly agreed, slowing the car down considerably. "Bombs away!"  
  
And the world exploded in a frenzy of orange as the getaway car in front of them vanished from existence.  
  
***  
"Delaney? You were set up. Everything about Turing, it was all a mirage."  
  
Delaney froze in the middle of the sidewalk, her arm falling limp at her side as she stepped into the nearest cafe, Johns body pressed up against her own as the two of them listened to Zoe's statement about what she'd found in Turings office. "Oh God." She breathed softly, her wide eyes flickering up to meet Johns. "What else did you find out?"  
  
"I saw the ESCROW transfer before her computer was wiped clean. She's the one who hired HR. Put the hit out on herself. She knows how your little merry band operates. I'd say she was trying to lure you both out into the open." Ice pinched her veins as Delaney and John both ran back out into the street and up the block, to where they'd last left Finch at the seaport.  
  
"She wasn't looking for us, she was looking for him." John exclaimed urgently. "C'mon Delaney! We have to get Finch!" Delaney huffed as she pressed her fingertip against her earpiece to the secret line she always had connected with Zoe for more private conversations.  
  
" _Is Finch safe, Del? Or did Turing take him?"_  
  
One of the most important conversations she'd ever had with Harold since he'd hired her was about how much he meant to her as a person, and if anyone ever hurt him, there would be blood shed. Just as Kara had done to John, she would now make the same promise to a man who had done everything in his power to keep her sheltered and provided for. Harold Finch was a giver; someone who cared so much more about others then himself.  
  
And the only evidence either of them had was Alicia Corwins dead body, tossed carelessly out onto a side road that overlooked the river, a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead. "He's gone." Delaney said quietly, shuffling her feet as she and John examined Alicia's corpse. "I should've known she was a fake. Something about her just _screamed_ she was lying."  
  
Knowing how upset she was, John took Delaney in his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead as they began making their way back towards the street. "We're going to get him back, sweetheart." He glanced upward at the security camera on the corner, the red light glaring at them from above. "And our Machine is going to help us do so."


	18. To Find Out The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding out the truth about Caroline Turing.

"You really think it's a good idea for me to go to Bishop with you instead of Carter?" Delaney persisted, grumbling as John chucked a dirty grey teeshirt in her direction, hitting her square in the face. "C'mon John, please have some common sense for once in your life. Joss is a detective, and I'm not."   
  
"You're _really_ good at acting. Joss is not." He retorted. The two of them had spent a majority of the night writing out a thoroughly detailed plan of how they were going to rescue Finch from Root. After a breakfast with Carter and Fusco, the two of them had specifically told the detectives they were to remain in New York for backup into any national database regarding Hannah Frey, who had disappeared in 1991. "I should've brought Bear along. God knows that he could've been somewhat useful." 

Delaney heaved her duffel bag onto the bed, zipping it shut. It hadn't been long since they'd found Bear, a military trained dog who was fluent in Dutch commands and did just about anything he was asked. He'd proven quite useful in the past few days, and John had opted to leave him with Fusco while they went to Bishop, Texas. "What exactly do you plan on finding in Bishop? It better not be some drop dead gorgeous Southern belle."   
  
John sighed and stood to his feet, his eyes never leaving her own as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "Why would I look for a Southern belle when I've got one of the most gorgeous women to ever step foot in New York?" He whispered, his voice husky as he took her face in his hand and kissed her softly. When she pulled away, John couldn't help but find himself mesmerized by the flecks of orange in her deep brown eyes.   
  
"You flatter me way too much."   
  
"I'm serious." He replied, his voice confident as she allowed her hands to slip under his shirt, carefully tracing the outlines of his muscles on his stomach. John still had a difficult time with intimate touches- so he was allowing Delaney to take it one step at a time, to keep him feeling comfortable. "You're stunning. I don't think I've told you that enough."   
  
Eyes bright and ready for another adventure, Delaney slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, locking the door to their apartment before stepping into the doorway. "Coming from you John... I don't think I can hear it enough. Now let's go. We have a plane to catch."   
  
*****

  
Traveling to Texas from New York felt like stepping into a whole other world, with a lot more dirt and southern accents. Delaney kept her gaze firmly set on the glistening gold numbers of their motel room 114 as she and John walked past a multitude of men gearing up for deer season. "You're lucky you called when you did. Deer season just started and this was the last available room we had."   
  
The manager opened the door, revealing a small room with a king sized bed, a bathroom, a TV, and a small dresser. "This'll accommodate us well. Thank you." She nodded at the manager, who shut the door behind him as he left. "Well... We already share a bed at the apartment. You want to do that here?" She spoke lightly, watching as Johns eyes flickered between the inviting bed and the bathtub.   
  
"I probably won't be sleeping much, and if I do, I can sleep on the floor."   
  
Delaney quirked an eyebrow, curling her hands around her hips. "You're not giving me the entire bed, John. Besides, if I'm here, I'm going to put myself to good use by helping you. Why don't we go down to the police station and get Hannah's case file? You can stay in the car, and I'll do my magic by concocting some story about my time in the NYPD and why I need the case."  


And so they went down to the Bishop police station, John opted to remain in their vehicle, his earpiece connected to Delaneys phone as he listened to her conversation with Bishops Sheriff. "What can you tell me about Hannah Frey's case file?" She asked as they ventured the main hall of of the police station.   
  
"Oh yes ma'am, I remember it well. I have to ask first, what did you say your name was?" 

"Greene. I have a missing persons case back in the Bronx that may have the same MO. A young girl went missing from a public library, just like Hannah Frey. One of my suspects used to live in Texas." Delaney subconsciously twirled the Hebrew engraved ring on her left middle finger, a gift from John.

"Really? What's their name?"  
  
Delaney took a seat inside the Sheriffs office, crossing her legs at her ankles. "I'm not at liberty to share that information, Sheriff. It's still a developing case. I'd just really like to have a look at Hannahs case file." After a moment of bickering with the Sheriff, John climbed out of the car and intercepted the delivery man, stepping inside the police station to collect the case file himself. 

Heavily annoyed, Delaney stormed out of the precinct in the most kindly manner possible, slamming the door of the car in a huff. "What do-" Her eyes narrowed as John flipped open a manilla folder, revealing the report of Hannah's kidnapping and an old photo of her as a child. "Good God, sometimes I really hate you."   
  
"There's no leads to follow up on here. There was a 911 call from someone who claimed they saw Hannah getting into the car that night. They gave the plate number too, but none of it checked out." John paused momentarily, studying her eyes as they scanned the police report. "What do you think?"   
  
"It doesn't take a rocket scientist to answer that question. I say we start from the beginning. We need to talk to the person who saw Hannah last, and work our way from there." Delaney turned her body towards John, who seemed to be in deep thought. "John, what are _you_ thinking?"  
"That she's still out there, Del. That girl became Root, and she has Finch." 

****  
  
Delaney and John quietly entered Bishops Public Library, scanning the rows of bookshelves and children hunched over personal computers before turning to the clerk, an older woman named Barb. "Of course I remember that night. It's nearly impossible to forget. Hannah was a bright girl with a hopeful future.. Mainly kept to herself."   
  
"Did you notice anything off about her that night?"  
  
John continued to scan the area for any possible clue or indication of that night in 1991 as Barb continued to answer Delaneys questions. "Not really. She was at those computers over there just about every night. We didn't have any internet back then.. Just a few educational games. That's about it."  
  
Barb continued to tell her about the night Hannah had disappeared, how she had given a list of people to the police for the investigation. Hannah had checked out books and vanished the same night. "Do her parents still live here?" John inquired.  
  
"Her mother passed away a few years ago, but I do still see her father every once in a while." Barb replied. "I can give you the address for her house, if you'd like." Delaney flashed a bright smile, leaning against the counter as she watched the librarian scrawl an address on a scrap slip of paper.  
  
"Thank you for your time."  
  
The two of them walked back outside to the car, shutting the door behind them as John peeled out of the parking lot. "What're you thinking about? The fact she went missing so young? That her parents were left to grieve without a body?" He murmured, resting his hand on the top of her knee. She couldn't seem to shake the flash forward in her mind- a vision of John kneeling in a mound of dirt, the black marble of a tombstone glistening in his eyes as tears cascaded down his cheeks. An older Delaney wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hiding her face in his salt and pepper hair as they grieved the loss over a child they'd barely known.  
  
 _Their child._ "John, can you imagine what that couple went through?" She said softly, eyes gazing upon the long stretch of empty road that lead to the Frey Farm. "Losing their daughter at such a young age, with no idea of knowing if she's dead or alive... I can't imagine going through something like that."  
  
John parked the car in the driveway, turning off the ignition as he shifted his body to face the woman beside him. _So beautiful, so loyal and so incredibly brave._ He gripped her chin in his fingers so tenderly it felt as if a feather were brushing along her pale skin, his lips making contact on the corner of her mouth, before moving to place a kiss on her jaw. "You don't have to worry about that." He mumbled. "Because I'll never let it happen."  
  
Jaw dropped, Delaney Chrysler watched as John exited the car, his muscular figure rippling as he removed his suit jacket, wiping the sweat off of his forehead with his jacket. She pressed her hands against her mouth, unable to hide the smile on her face as tears trickled down her face.  
  
 _Did John just insinuate a future for the two of them?_  
  
By the time she had composed herself, John was already well out the door of the house. "I'm going back into town, but I found something out that you should look into. Something to do with old credit card bills in Hannahs name." She nodded and crawled out the drivers door, lightly squeezing his hand as she ventured back inside of the house. "Be careful."  
  
If only he knew how much she really adored him. "Always am, Reese."  
  
She spent the next hour and a half sifting through the trash, searching for the most recent credit card bill in Hannahs name. "I can't figure any of this out, Carter. Why would a dead girl keep getting credit card bills, sent to her fathers address? She hasn't been here since she vanished."  
  
"Have you tried tracking the account?" Joss replied. "That may give you more information then you already have. Get John to do it."  
  
Delaney hung up the phone, grimacing as she pulled out a rectangular navy blue card that read _Open now- 0% APR for 12 Months! Enroll today!_ across the back, with Hannah's name and address in bold print beneath it.  
  
***  
  
"Now, for the last time, _what happened to Hannah Frey?"_  
  
Delaney pulled up in their rental car in front of the Razorback Bar, heart crawling into her throat as she watched John pin a man who could've only been Cody Grayson against a pillar outside the main door, which was nothing now but shattered glass fragments scattered along the pavement. "Let me guess, Cody Grayson?" She remarked, smirking as the man ran around the corner and vanished from sight. "By the way, please continue to interrogate people when I'm around. That was the hottest thing I've seen all day."  
  
"I thought I would buy him a round."  
  
"Of all the people I know, John, you are by far the _worst_ at making friends." John watched as she walked back towards the car, his hand subconsciously reaching for her hip as she found the evidence from the trash and handed it to him. "I called Carter, had her run a credit check. There was a bank account opened in Hannah's name back in 1993, two years after she disappeared. So either Hannah is communicating beyond the grave-"  
  
"Or she's still alive." John murmured, eyes wide with awe as he stared at the only woman who understood him. "You've done well, my protege. Let's find Finch."  
  
" _Your protege?"_ She shrieked. "You're kidding me right? We trained together! I'm not your protege. I'm your _partner._ " John quirked an eyebrow, chuckling as she smacked his forearm. "Get used to the term, wise guy. Because it's never going to change."  
  
 _Later on that night (_ I'm skipping some of the conversations in this episode because quite frankly, this is one of my least favorite ones.)  
  
Trent Russell was their new core suspect to the disappearance of Hannah Frey. Later on that night, they found themselves on the front porch of his home, prepared for a thorough discussion, "Mrs Russell!" Delaney called out, careful to not wake the neighbors. "Can we talk to you?"  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"Detective Greene. I need to talk to your husband." Realization flashed across Delaneys face as Barb, the clerk from the Library opened the door to the house, glancing between the two of them. "Mrs. Russell?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Is your husband home?" Delaney inquired. "We need to speak to him."  
  
Her heart sank in her chest as Mrs. Russells face fell. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but Trent passed away nearly fifteen years ago." Delaneys eyes gazed over the womans shoulder at her immaculate front hallway, and an idea sprung to mind. "Can we come inside?"  
  
Barb proceeded to explain to her and John the tragic details of Trents death; a drug killing confrontation with people from over the border. John, of course, was willing to jump right to the point. "How long did he know Hannah Frey?"  
  
"Hannah?" She said cautiously, her eyes drifting towards the floor. "He didn't." _Liar._ That was one of the most important things they'd taught her in the early days of the CIA, during her interrogation classes. If a suspect couldn't look you in the eyes, then they were lying through their teeth. Plain and simple.  
  
"But here's the problem, Mrs. Russell. You're wrong. How do you explain this if he didn't know her?" Delaney held up a credit card form, detailed with transactions over the two years Hannah had used it before it was permanently closed. The longer she held the form up, the more Mrs. Russell continued to squirm.   
  
"This must be some kind of mistake, Detective... I assure you-"  
  
"Yeah, just like his murder?" She spat bitterly, tossing the form to the side as she and John split into two different directions to search the house. "Mind if we look around the place? Good. Cause I'm sure we're going to find some sort of evidence in here."  
  
" _Delaney!"_  
  
Delaney rushed out into the night, pulling her sweatshirt closer as John unveiled the only solid evidence they'd seen since coming to Bishop; the same car with the license plate given to the police by the 911 caller. "Are we saying this is the same car?" She replied. "The one that Hannah got into the night she vanished?"  
  
"Maybe she escaped, and got her revenge on Trent. Opened up the bank account in his name, the 100 grand stolen from the drug lord, and when he finds out who took it, he enacts his wrath on Russell because the accounts in his name. He denies it, and he's shot dead in a parking lot, and Hannah is lost in the wind." John recounted, almost as if he had witnessed the murder himself. "I've got to say, I'm impressed. She's good."  
  
"So what now?"  
  
His cold, steely blue eyes shifted towards the house, where Sheriff Landry had just pulled into the parking lot. "Now we search the house."


	19. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unearthed secrets and new friends found, old friends rescued.

"Where'd the books come from, Barb?" Delaney demanded, slamming her hands on the kitchen table, startling both Sheriff Landry and Barb Russell. It had been nearly an hour of constant questions with very little plausible answer, and Delaney had begun to grow irritated. "You'll learn quickly that my patience wears thin. You better start talking."  
  
Barb swallowed the lump in her throat. "They come from all over the country on the same date every year." John stepped forward, brow knitting in realization as he and Delaney continued to stare at the two people sitting across from them.  
  
"April 15th. That's the day Hannah disappeared."  
  
Her eyes were vacant as she continued on. "Every time one comes, there's no note. No sender. It's almost as if someone wants to be cruel." John leaned downward, sliding out a bookmark with a receipt printed on the back of it. The latest copy of _Flowers For Algernon_ had come from a small book store in Seattle, Washington a few days before their arrival.  
  
"Delaney, the most recent book did have something." John murmured, his fingers wrapping around her wrist as he handed her the bookmark. "I'll find out who bought it. You stay here. She's not done yet." Delaney nodded firmly, sighing deeply as John walked out the door, leaving her alone with two of Bishops residents. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, piecing together all of the information they'd gathered so far in her head as she paced the dining room.  
  
Sheriff Landry brought in a tape recorder of the 911 call from the night Hannah had disappeared, the voice of a young girl playing through the speaker. When it had ended, the older man pressed his thumb into the power button and turned his eyes towards Barb. "The girl was asked, but wouldn't give her name. Then she hung up."  
  
A smirk turned her lips upwards as Barb desperately tried to avoid their gaze. "I bet you Barb knows who it is, don't you?" She mused lightly. "Go on then. Tell the nice Sheriff the truth. It's probably a long time coming anyways."  
  
And so she listened intently to Barb weaving a story; one of a young Samantha Groves, who had been one of the witnesses inside the Library the same night that Hannah Frey had vanished. She had been fairly young, living with her mother outside of Bishop.  
  
It wasn't until Sheriff Landry spoke again that everything suddenly began to fall into place.  
  
"Why are you so sure it was Sam? There were other girls there."  
  
Barb sucked in a large breath, her face losing its color as Delaneys eyes widened. "You forced her to keep her mouth shut _because_ she knew it was Trent, the man you were interested in." She said softly. It was moments like this that filled her with anticipation; making her suspect squirm underneath enormous amounts of pressure. "Sam saw him in the car Hannah got into, and you forced her not to speak because if he went to jail, that would be the end of your relationship. So Barb.. I've got to ask. You couldn't believe a man like Trent would do such a thing... What do you believe now?"  
Two pairs of eyes watched as Barb walked towards the back window of the kitchen, her gaze falling on the patio outside the house decorated in lawn furniture. "The patio. He redid it two weeks after Hannah's initial disappearance."  
  
***  
  
After thorough digging through the Earth, Delaney and Sheriff Landry discovered Hannah's purple backpack, with one lone copy of _Flowers For Algernon_ encrusted in dirt still tucked protectively inside.  
  
She returned to the motel just in time to find John packing his things, quickly putting his suit jacket back on as he prepared to leave. "Del, you can keep the rental. The guys are lending me a truck." She rose an eyebrow comically, motioning to the crossbow on the bed.  
  
"Where on _Earth_ did the crossbow come from?"  
  
Her heart melted as John pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, continuing to beeline for the door. "Long story, but we're friends now. Gotta go, got a line on a private jet." Delaney fanned herself with the forms in her hand, her eyes never leaving Johns. "I'm going back east. Look, this book lead us to a book store, to a bank, to a bank, to a bank, to a credit card used in Maryland around four AM this morning. It's Root. Hannah is Root, she's alive, and I know where she is."  
  
The news of Hannah pulled Delaney back into reality. Lunging across the bed, she caught John completely off guard by knocking him flat on his back, pinned to the floor by her knees locked at his waist. Breathless, he adjusted his line of sight so he was looking straight up at the dirt covered _Flowers For Algernon_ book in her hand. "John, she's not Hannah." Delaney uttered. "Hannah has been in the ground for years. She's dead. She never did get away from Russell."  
  
Confusion filled Johns face as he sat up, her body still in his lap as the two of them gazed upon the bulletin board on the front wall of their motel room. "Then who did this? Who sent the books, got Russell killed? None of this makes sense!" Delaney rolled off of him, pulling herself up onto the bed to grab the photo Hannah's father had given her upon her departure.  
  
"Samantha Groves, one of Hannah's friends. She saw Hannah get into Russell's car that night. She told Barb, called 911, but no body would listen to her."  
  
"Where is she now?"  
  
"Only child, mom died about ten years ago. Sam left town to never return." She laid the picture in Johns hand, wrapping his fingers around it before rubbing her thumb across the Hebrew engraved ring that seemed to never leave his hand. "If anyone is Root, it has to be her. There's no doubt about it now."  
  
  
"She's the one who took Finch, and we're going after her. Together." John jumped up, standing by the door with his hand extended. "Will you run away with me, Miss Chrysler?" Her lips parted in the brilliant smile that John adored as she nodded, gasping as he pulled her out of the motel room and together the two of them jumped into the loaned truck, their destination the airport to finally bring their friend home.  
  
***  
  
Samantha Groves wrapped her fingers around the handles of Finch's wheelchair, her long brown hair sitting on her shoulders as she scanned the train station for any possible recon team to rescue her precious _Harold._ "You'll like the West, Harold." She fantasized, sighing as she turned his chair towards the line of people in front of her. "Fewer people, bluer skies, more space to think."  
  
" _Please_." Finch whispered just loud enough for himself to hear, hoping that his Machine had heard his pleas. " _Just once.. Send me a miracle._ "  
  
As if on cue, John Reese and Delaney Chrysler stepped through the main door of the train station, eyes peeled for their reclusive billionaire and his kidnapper. "How did he find us?" Root snapped, turning the wheelchair sharply to avoid being in Johns line of sight.  
  
"Because you're wrong. They prove your wrong." Harold replied venomously, his eyes darkening as he lifted his head to look at a woman he now held much contempt for. "Oh, and _Miss Groves,_ their names are Delaney Chrysler and John Reese. And let me tell you, they're both _experts_ at killing people."  
  
"You helped him, and I told you what would happen if you did."  
  
Delaney gripped John's jacket as her eyes fell on the one man they'd devoted their time to, their lives to protect, as he wheeled himself into view from behind a pillar nearly two hundred feet ahead of them. Just as Root went to fire at one of the train station workers, Finch lunged from his wheelchair, thus deflecting the bullet she'd fired.  
  
The crowd went into an uproar, chaos spreading as people fumbled for their luggage and began sprinting out of the train station as fast they possibly could. Some people cowered in their benches, hands rose protectively over their heads. "Hiya sunshine. Please don't move." Delaney coddled, checking Finch for any sign of an exit wound. "You're not hit."  
  
"Good. Now let's get him out of here."  
  
Finch inhaled deeply, trying to regain his lost breath as his eyes flickered between the people flanking him on either side. "In all honesty, Miss Chrysler, Mr Reese... I didn't expect the two of you to come find me. There are more people who need your help."  
  
"You gave me a new start, Finch. The least I can do is return the favor by saving your skin once or twice."  
  
"And you saved my life, Finch. It seemed only fair I return the favor."  
  
***  
A new sense of safety filled Harold Finch's body as he flicked on the light switch, watching as the lights inside the Library flickered to life. It had been a long time since his own life had been threatened, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they would cross paths with Root once again. "Bear! _Komen! (1)_ " On command, a tan Belgian Malinois sprung out of his new bed, a ruined copy of _The Great Gatsby_ dangling from his mouth. "Finch, meet your new dog. Well, it _would_ be our new dog if our land lord didn't have a strict policy regarding animals."

"I too have a strict policy, namely not eating rare first editions." Finch muttered, grimacing as he reached outward to pry the saliva covered book from the dogs mouth. Delaney held up a hand, lightly squeezing his shoulder to catch his attention.  
  
"He's military trained, Sherlock." She mused, lightly nudging his hip as Bear looked at his new masters, eyes wide with curiosity. "Listens to fluent Dutch commands, like so. Bear, _drop het boek! (_ 2)." On cue, Bear dropped the ruined book at Finchs feet.  
  
"Well, I can see he has expensive taste. I'm sure we'll get along." Delaney smiled up at John, leaning against his shoulder as she trailed her hand down his arm, lightly lacing their fingers together. "Del, Mr Reese.. I owe you both a debt."  
  
All three pairs of eyes drifted towards John cellphone as it began to ring, his thumb sliding across the main screen to answer it. "Come near us again, and you will be sorry." His voice had dropped an octave, his tone threatening as he spoke to whoever was on the other side of the phone.  
  
" _I don't think so. Tell Harold I'll be in touch when I'm ready. Also... make sure your pretty little girlfriend stays in tip top condition."_  
  
John ended the call, sliding his phone back into his suit pocket and quietly making his way past Finch, who seemed completely flabbergasted at the fact that John had failed to mention who was on the other side of the phone. "He's not the same without you around, Harold." Delaney whispered softly, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull Finch into a tight hug. "He was right. You have made him into a new man. _Thank you."_  
  
In that small, tender moment of first intimacy with his newest associate, Harold Finch thought of the time before Nathans death, and how beautifully tragic his story with Grace Hendricks had become. He had never once told her the truth; the story of who he was, where he'd come from, what he'd accomplished. Maybe the day would come where he could reveal the truth, tell her everything she deserved to know, including how much he loved her.  
  
"Take tomorrow off, Miss Chrysler. Spend some quality time with John."  
  
Delaney smiled and lightly patted Harolds shoulder, ruffling Bears ears as she took one last look at the Library and quietly padded down the stairs, shutting the door behind her. John hailed down a taxi, slumping down in the back seat as she joined him at his side, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh as the taxi peeled away from the curb, setting course for their small home in Manhattan.  
  
It had been a long day.


	20. Who You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A filler of fluff. :)

  
" _You are beautiful beyond description." Delaney whispered, her lips inches away from Johns ear as she began to unbutton his white dress shirt, her eyes never leaving his. "You just haven't been shown it. If you'll allow me, John Reese, I'll show you how a woman like me looks at a man like you."  
  
"How do you look at me?"  
  
"Like you're the ocean, and I'm begging to drown."  
  
  
<><><><><><><><><><><>_

Upon arrival back to their apartment, Delaney immediately set for the kitchen, pulling two bottles of water out of the refrigerator. Taking a small sip of her own, she turned around and found John slowly undressing himself, revealing the mosaic of scars littered across his back. And given the time they'd spent together, she was well aware of the other scars on the front of his body. From missions gone wrong to simple stabbings, John Reese was a mosaic of scars and wounds that made him who he was.  
  
And she adored the man he was.  
  
Taking small steps to meet him in the middle, Delaney trailed her hands up Johns arms, lifting her eyes to meet his own. She knew he hated to be vulnerable especially around her, but he was slowly growing accustomed to letting his walls fall when they were alone. "You are beautiful beyond description." Delaney whispered, her lips inches away from Johns ear as she began to unbutton his white dress shirt, her eyes never leaving his. "You just haven't been shown it. If you'll allow me, John Reese, I'll show you how a woman like me looks at a man like you."  
  
"How do you look at me?" He whispered, his voice small as her fingers finished on the last button of his dress shirt, discarding it to the floor.   
  
"Like you're the ocean and I'm begging to drown."  
  
John watched intently as she took her fingertip, tracing a scar he'd got from a knife fight gone wrong in his first year of the CIA. He hadn't been paying enough attention to Kara's instruction, and she'd given him a decent sized gash on his right breastbone that had taken nearly a month to heal. "Why are you doing this? To prove a point?" He tried desperately to not let anger seep into his voice, but Delaney read him like an open book and took a step back. " _To make me feel worse about myself?_ "   
  
A awed sigh left her lips as Delaney crossed her arms, removing her blouse which left her in a nude sports bra and her faded denim jeans. "If you think you're damaged, you're not the only one." She replied softly. "I have never wanted to show you something so badly until now John, because I just realized that your scars are the reason why you cover up so thickly. Who wears a suit in the summer?"  
  
John remained silent as she took another step closer to him, the sunlight highlighting the scars she too had on her front. The most recent one was displayed on her right hip. It looked like a buckshot wound from a shotgun. "Saved Zoe's life during an assignment about a year ago. I got a shotgun shell embedded in my side. But do you know what this scar says to anyone else who sees it?" She took his right hand, setting it on her hip as his thumb traced the scar as delicately as possible. " _This is a story about someones life I saved._ "  
  
  
He inhaled sharply as he gripped her waist, closing his eyes as her lips brushed over the scar on his shoulder. She continued to map him like an artist on a canvas, turning something vacant and emotionless into something beautiful. "You know for someone who continuously makes me a better man, when was the last time someone told you how beautiful _you_ were?"  
  
Delaney's amber eyes flickered down towards his, her knees locking at his hips as she straddled him on the bed. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, a mirage of brown waves in the sunlight. "Not before you came along John. No one." She murmured. "But that's not important-"  
  
"Delaney _."_ John's fingers crept up her stomach, flipping her opposite of him so he was now straddling her. "You have to stop hiding from me. I want you. I-"  
  
" _Say it John._ "  
  
"God Delaney, I _need you."_  
  
They spent the next hour tracing each others skin, whispering words of comfort and affirmation, words they had not heard in years. John needed reassurance that he was a good man, and Delaney needed reassurance that she was capable of being loved; that she wasn't just a rebound of Jessica, Johns last tragedy gone horribly wrong.  
  
***  
  
"Joss, can you do me a favor and bring me a dozen eggs? And bring Fusco. He'll get a kick out of this."  
  
Joss Carter and Lionel Fusco pulled up outside Delaney and Johns apartment, cradling a dozen eggs underneath her arm as she and Fusco approached Apartment 5A, knocking on the door. Fusco nearly doubled over in laughter when Delaney opened the door covered in flour, with chocolate icing dabbed on her cheeks. "Why-Why are you covered in flour, woman?" Fusco deadpanned, pushing inside as she stepped aside to allow the detectives inside the apartment. "And where's Wonderboy?"  
  
"John is pre occupied icing about two dozen cupcakes in the kitchen, and we got into a food fight." Joss' jaw dropped as she stepped into the living room, gazing at the sight in front of her. John Reese, New Yorks residential vigilante, was dressed in sweat pants and a teeshirt dotted in chocolate and vanilla cream cheese icing, his eyes focused on perfectly icing the cupcakes in front of him. "I appreciate the eggs Carter. Maybe he won't _crack them_ over my head on the next batch we make."  
  
"You brought that upon yourself!" John exclaimed, sucking on his fingers with a satisfying _pop!_ as he stepped back into the living room. "Ah, Fusco. No criminals to catch today?" Fusco studied The Man In The Suit, desperately trying not to laugh at the apron he had tied around his waist.  
  
"I can't believe that I just walked in on you wearing an apron and baking cupcakes. I think the world may have ended."  
  
The simplicity of his statement was enough to make Joss and Delaney begin laughing hysterically too, the couple ushering the two detectives out of the apartment with a slam of the door. As soon as she turned around, the ex-CIA assassin found herself face to face with a cupcake full of vanilla icing.  
  
" _John!"_  
  
John grinned sheepishly and tossed the cupcake into the trash can, grabbing the remote from the nightside table. "Sorry. I just couldn't resist." He replied, chuckling as she stood over the sink in the kitchen and washed her face clean of icing. "You want to come watch a movie with me? I'm tired."  
  
"This is coming from the man who never sleeps." Delaney deadpanned. "You realize we'll have a number tomorrow, right? Finch only gave us one day off. And we spent it tracing our scars and making cupcakes, and laughing at Fusco making fun of you."  
  
John wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, burying his nose in her hair as the opening credits for _Blue Bloods_ began to roll across the TV screen. "It was a day well spent." He murmured, his voice beginning to become thick with sleep as she rested her head against his shoulder. "G'night love."  
  
His soft snores filled the room, sending a content smile across her face as she turned in on her side, her hand trailing beneath the t-shirt John had changed into before going to sleep for a few hours. He didn't typically sleep through the night anymore unless he took several sleeping pills prior to going to bed. Her fingers met the rigid outlines of a scar she had witnessed herself, during a small raid she'd been apart of with John their first year in the CIA before she had been assigned to London.  
  
He'd saved her from a stab wound that same night.  
  
John Reese was a concoction of a number of things; honesty, loyalty, compassion. But he was also composed of burdens he refused to let go of, emotional scars that had never healed, betrayals that had never been rectified. To run into one another when The Machine had registered Zoe's number was nothing short of a miracle. She had been so incredibly thankful to run across the man she loved so deeply that she had accepted a job from a reclusive billionaire who had become her brother in a matter of days.  
  
Finch was their mind.  
John was their strength.  
  
And now it was her job to be the heart of her small family. It was simply who she was.


	21. The High Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The closest semblance to normalcy either of them are ever going to get.

"Morning Finch."  
  
Harold Finch looked up from his desk after scolding Bear, gazing at the couple walking down the hall. Delaney was on the side of lagging that morning, given the fact John had slept on her almost all night. "Morning Mr. Reese, Delaney. Are you alright?" Her amber eyes narrowed as she jabbed a thumb at John, who was smirking as he bit into a doughnut.  
  
"This genius slept on me all night, so I didn't sleep well. Do we have a new number?"  
  
"Indeed we do. Graham Wyler, 42, owns a hardware store with his wife in Far Rockaway." Finch replied, posting Grahams picture on the bulletin board that sat in front of his desk. Delaney sat quietly on the floor, sipping her coffee as she pondered whether or not to let John take care of their newest number himself, or accompany him. "Murder isn't confined to a suburb, Mr. Reese."  
  
"I'll get eyes on the family. Del, you can stay here till I come back for you. See if you can train Bear."  
  
With that, John was gone, leaving her alone with the reclusive billionaire and his dog. Delaney stood to her feet, shedding her jacket on the back of Finch's chair and kneeling beside Bear, who whined playfully as she took one of his toys and threw it across the Library. Her mind drifted to her earliest memories with John, how they'd become allies so quickly, how she'd fallen in love with him.  
  
"Miss Chrysler, it's easy to tell you're thinking about Mr. Reese. Anything specific you'd like to share?" Finch inquired, pressing his fingertip against his earpiece to confirm John couldn't hear what either of them were saying. Delaney sighed deeply, resting her chin on Bears head as he laid down beneath her. "Delaney?"  
  
"I'm just thinking what it would be like to have a normal life, Harry." She murmured, removing the ring from her hand and handing it to the man behind her. "That was a gift from John a couple of weeks ago. It's so new... but it feels like I've been wearing it my entire life just like the ring he wears on his hand. That was something I gave him before I left the CIA. He hasn't taken it off since."  
  
"You mean a great deal to Mr. Reese, Miss Chrysler. He seemed lost when I met him the first time, as if he had no where to run, no one to go to. He did mention your name to me." She quirked an eyebrow at the new information, curious to know the rest of the story. "He said you were the one person that he still had left, the most beautiful soul in his life, but he thought you wouldn't want him back in yours. So he came to work for me, and well..."  
  
"The rest is history." She replied, flashing a smile as Finch turned his earpiece back on to speak to John about what he'd found through his phone calls to Fort Wayne. "If John needs me, I'll be in the cemetery talking to an old friend about some new love."  
  
***  
  
_"As it happens, there's a quaint three bedroom that just went on the market across from the Wylers. You can move in tomorrow."  
  
John glanced around the Library, curious as to where his girlfriend had gone, before he turned back to Finch and furrowed his brow in confusion. "Move in?"   
  
"You're going to be neighbors. I also procured a new vehicle, a new wardrobe, and a new set of golf clubs. There is one element of your cover that you will had to acquire on your own, of course. She's at the cemetery." _  
  
And that's how John found himself at the cemetery right before dusk, the sun peering over the Manhattan Skyline before descending into darkness, giving him next to no light to see the scene in front of him. Delaney sat on top of a familiar grave, laughing quietly to herself as John struggled to make out the inscription on the tomb stone.   
  
At first he thought it was her mothers, but then the moonlight reflected on the silver letters etched in the marble, and he caught the faint calligraphy of _McKenna_ before it faded into the shadows. "I thought it would be a long time before I ever saw you have the strength to come here." John murmured as he stepped out of the shadows, fumbling with the engagement ring in his pocket. "What were you talking to her about?"   
  
"I was telling her about the numbers, and about us." She replied softly, nostalgia filling her eyes as John helped her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her middle as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You don't ever show up to the cemetery, much less at night. Do you have news on our new number?"   
  
Suddenly remembering the reason why he'd come to the cemetery in the first place, John unwound his arms from her waist and stuck his trembling hand into his pocket to pull out the ring. _Come on John, it's not even a real proposal. Just ask her._ It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about this moment before, and how utterly humiliating it would be if he were to stumble over his words, acting like an idiot as he asked the second woman he'd ever loved to be his wife. "I do, but first I have to ask you this. Delaney Chrysler, will you be my wife?"  
  
Her jaw dropped to the ground as John pulled out an engagement ring, with a gold band and a small diamond fastened in the middle. _It was gorgeous.  
  
"Wow. _Have you officially lost your mind?"  
  
"If it means spending two to three days with you as my fake wife, then absolutely."   
The grin that crossed his face as she held out her hand for him to slide the ring on was enough to make her heart skip two beats.  
  
 _The next morning_  
  
Delaney adjusted her lavender sundress as she stepped out of Johns car, messing with her curls as she turned towards her boyfriend, who was smirking at her as they both turned their attention to the house. "Remember that time where you saved me and my best friend from being tortured by corporate hitmen? Consider us even."   
  
''Does that mean I can't carry you across the threshold?"   
  
Her lips parted into the brilliant smile John loved so much as she opened the car door, releasing Bear into the front door of their newest home. "Maybe one day," She mused, winking subtly before following John into the house. It was exactly how she'd dreamt about it, small enough to house a family of four. The kitchen was white, with ornamental cabinets that attached from ceiling to the middle of the pristine tile wall. Setting her purse down, she pried her cell phone out of her bag and studied the caller ID. **_Zoe Morgan._** "I thought it'd be a long time before I heard your voice again. Did you miss me too much?"   
  
Inside the Library, Zoe smirked and knelt down beside Harold who had just finally managed to contact John. "Your friend with the glasses brought me in on this assignment for backup help. I thought I'd call and see how you and the husband are doing." She pressed her thumb against the speaker phone, setting it on the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Hello John."   
  
"I wanted to thank Miss Chrysler for being willing enough to offer her services." Finch said. "I figured she would put up more of a fight then just allowing Mr. Reese to propose and be married for a short time."   
  
Delaney turned her head towards John, taking a step closer and wrapping his arm around her waist. As long as they were alone, he didn't particularly seem to care about public displays of affection. When on the job and around a crowd, it seldom happened. "Someone had to make sure that Pretty Boy here didn't burn down the house, _especially_ one like this."   
  
"We'll see what happens." John replied, lightly tracing circles on her waist. "Right now our main concern is to ID Wyler, see who he really is. Delaney's good at reconnoissance and getting intel. She'll do well befriending Connie." She laid back against his chest, humming underneath her breath as she carefully listened to John's plan for befriending their newest neighbors across the street. "Once we establish contact, we'll be able to-"   
  
The doorbell rang suddenly, causing Johns grip on her waist to tighten in a protective fashion as his other hand wrapped around the gun procured in his waist band. "John, calm down. It's the doorbell." A redhot blush snuck up his neck to the tips of his ears as she flashed a smile, adjusting her outfit and fidgeting with the white headband on top of her hair. "If you shoot girl scouts, you quite possibly could go down as the worst domesticated ex-CIA assassin ever. They'd put an award in the Guinness Book for you."  
  
Delaney turned the corner, opening the door as John approached from behind, opening the door to reveal Connie and Graham Wyler on the other side. "Hi! Sorry to bother you, we just wanted to stop over and welcome you to the neighborhood. I'm Connie Wyler."  
  
"Graham."  
  
John extended his hand and forced a smile. "John Campbell. This is my wife, Delaney. It's nice to meet you both." From the corner of her eye, Delaney could see the rigid veins prominent in the side of Johns neck.   
  
"We're having some people over this afternoon for a barbeque. You should stop by, if you want too."  
  
"We'll be there! See you then!" The couple turned towards one another, and Delaney couldn't help but grin at the look of annoyance on John's face. "I just want to tell you, you're terrible at being domesticated. Learn from the-" Her hands descended down her sides in a provocative pose, subtly winking at John as she then ascended the staircase to the bedrooms on the second floor. " _Master._ "  
  
She casually leaned against the first bedroom door, screwing her eyes tightly shut as an image appeared in her mind. Instead of being vacant and colorless, it was a deep ocean blue with the name _Claire_ painted in white calligraphy on the back wall. In the corner sat an old oak rocking chair, where a muscular man who shared Johns features was rocking a baby back and forth in rhythm, desperately trying to stay awake.  
  
"What're you thinking about?"  
  
In all honesty, she really didn't want to tell John what she fantasizing about in her mind. John was not exactly an affectionate person, and for her to tell him that she was daydreaming about their daughter, their marriage, raising a family in this house; it was sure to make him run away for fear that he wouldn't be adequate enough to fill the position of father.  
  
"Just.. What it would be like to live an normal life." She muttered, chewing on her bottom lip as she turned around to face John. "What it would be like to start a family, get married... Not worry about dying every time I walk out the door." John cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening as his thumb ran over her lips before he captured them in his own. Delaney let out a content sigh as her hands trailed up to cup the sides of his neck. When they both ran out of oxygen, John lightly pulled on her bottom lip before pulling away completely, resting his forehead against her own.  
  
"I can never promise you the future, but I can promise you tomorrow." He whispered, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. "This isn't something I'm particularly good with, Delaney, because of how badly things ended with Jessica. Even if I can't give you what you want, or _deserve,_ you can count on me making you happy."  
  
There it was again. Those three nagging words trying to break free from her lips as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before walking away.  
  
 _I love you.  
I love you.  
I love you. _  
  
But it never seemed to be the right time to tell him.


	22. Old War Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm pulling these summaries out of nowhere, bear with me

<><><><><><><>  
  
 _Hey Jude.... Don't make it bad  
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart  
So you can start to make it better_  
  
\- The Beatles  
<><><><><><><><<>

John watched from the corner of his eye while Graham flipped meat on the barbecue, his eyes focusing on the graceful form of his partner and his best friend as she carried on conversation with Connie. "How long have you two been living up here?" Delaney inquired, her fingers wrapped around the neck of her wine cooler. "It's a beautiful little town."  
  
"Somewhere around ten years. Graham and I moved up here after my mother got sick, just so we could be around more to help." Connie replied, her lips quirking upward as her eyes flickered towards John, dressed in a lavender polo and slacks, his hair combed neatly so everyone around him could see his steely blue gaze. "So... it seems like you and John go a long way back. How did the two of you meet?"   
  
It dawned on her that Connie was most likely looking for the real story as opposed to what she would be weaving for her own pleasure. Pursing her lips, she tapped her fingers against the bottle and forced a smile. "We were enlisted together. We were best friends before we got married, and the rest?" She leaned forward and winked beneath a mess of brown curls, her eyes bright with nostalgia. "Is history."   
  
***

Later on that night Delaney found herself perched by the window, her eyes keenly observing the empty street where Graham Wyler had appeared moments before. "Well, something has definitely freaked him out. Maybe Connie told him I was former military." She murmured, snickering under her breath as she remembered the shock written on the other womans face. "I should've taken a picture of that."   
  
John continued to strip his weapon, sprinkling grains of gunpowder onto the bottle he'd obtained from Graham earlier that afternoon. "Let's see if we can shed the light on the situation. Do you have a makeup brush, sunshine?" Her brow furrowed at the new nickname, and John shrugged absently. "Seriously? Not sunshine?"   
  
"When did you become the king of Cliches?"   
  
"When you agreed to date me." 

She watched intently as John dusted for the fingerprint, calling up Detective Carter to ID the real person whose print it belonged to, before he slid his phone back into his pocket and stood up from the table. "So, what do we do now, Mr. Cliche?"   
  
"We wait." John replied, scratching the back of his neck as a wicked smile appeared on his partners lips. There were very few cases where he'd seen such a smile, and he inwardly groaned at whatever she had planned inside her head.  
"What do domesticated people do for fun?"  
  
"Beats me. You got any ideas?"  
  
That was how he found himself sitting across from Delaney Chrysler at 2 AM, multiple poker chips in between them and a glass of scotch in their hands. She ran a hand through her hair, fingers curling around her cards as Delaney threw in several chips. "You know the suburbs might not be so bad after all." She murmured. "We could've made something for ourselves here. Are you in or out?"  
  
John pressed his lips together, leaning closer to the other woman as he sat his cards on the table. "Have you ever known me to run from a fight? Pair of aces." He stated softly, unable to tear his eyes away from her own as she too set down her cards. "Don't get cocky now, Miss Chrysler."  
  
"Me, cocky? Come on Mr. Reese." Delaney mused. "Two pair."  
  
He cursed loudly, gathering up the cards and chips and placing them in the middle of the table. "Fine, you won the bet for the eighteenth time since we've met. What do you want?" Delaney straightened her spine and approached the taller man, standing on her tiptoes to reach his height.  
  
"I want you to come to sleep with me." She whispered softly as her lips grazed his ear. John froze in place, his mind flashing back to that final day with Jessica in Niagara Falls before everything has presumably gone to hell. It was often he had to remind himself he was moving forward, pressing on to the light at the end of the tunnel. His reason for existing, for doing what he'd always done was standing in front of him, her fingers curled at the nape of his neck as her concerned brown irises searched his own for an answer. "Never mind."  
  
John watched longingly as she stepped around him, yawning before she began walking towards the staircase. "Hey," He called out, watching as Delaney turned to face him at the base of the stairs. "Wait a minute." She watched as he approached her swaying form, tucking his arms beneath her legs and carrying her bridal style into the room they'd be sharing until their job was completed. "I'm sorry."  
  
Her heart swelled at the sight; John hunched over with his head ducked against his chest, claiming the moment of weakness she so rarely saw. "Don't ever be sorry for being who you are, John." She mumbled, her lips turning upward as he turned to allow her privacy as she changed her clothes. "People leave, life goes on. You just have to learn to live with the love you feel." The two of them collapsed in bed beside one another, and John absentmindedly began to place warm kisses on the column of her neck, his fingers groping her hips as she sighed deeply. "Tell me your fears."  
  
He hid his face in her neck as her hands traveled his scarred shoulders, lightly easing the tension in his body as he began to tremble violently. "I'm afraid of losing you the same way you lost Mckenna." He stated aloud, his voice muffled by her skin. "You're just as selfless as I am, always looking out for everyone else before you can look out for yourself. Del... you can tell me I have to learn to live with the love, but what do I do when the love is just... _gone?_ "

Delaney sucked in a large breath, screwing her eyes tightly shut as John rested his head back against his pillow, waiting for her answer. "I lost the love that supplied me life when I watched my best friend take a fatal bullet for me in London. I gained it back when we ran across each others paths again." Her fingers lightly gripped his cheeks as she rested her forehead against his own. "John... As long as I'm standing here, living out my days beside you, I can solemnly promise that I won't be going anywhere if you're not coming with me."  
  
And as they stared at one another in the moonlight, for just a fraction of time, John Reese smiled so widely it made his cheeks hurt, and his heart finally began to register the proclamation Delaney Chrysler had spoken that night in Far Rockaway, New York.  
  
She was his, and he was hers. In that moment, where it was just the two of them against the world, it was more then enough.


	23. Graham Wyler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The number continues about the way you would expect it to.

_  
  
\- - - - - - - - -- - - - - - -_  
  
Why did everything have to be so complicated?  
  
"A car fire? That's almost the cheapest trick in the book!" Delaney exclaimed, tightening her ponytail as John led her outside to where Harold was installing the supposed security system that John sold for a living. Harold ambled inside the house, setting his laptop on the island as Delaney took a sip of her water. "So if the Wylers are invaded, we can see everything going on inside the house from here?"  
  
"Correct." Harold replied. "And speaking of Vaughn, the jobs he and his crew completed? In every one of them, a safe was cracked using a technique called lock manipulation. No drilling, no tools... All of it's done by ear. In the last heist, there was a difference. Vaughn shot the guard to motivate the jewelry store manager to open the safe."  
  
Delaney smirked and shook her head lightly. "The one job that Graham decided to not show up for. Can't say I blame him. So he's the safe cracker and they blame him for getting locked up. I'm sure that'll be mentioned this afternoon." John scooped up his car keys, lightly squeezing her hand as he passed by and went out the door of the house. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on Connie just to make sure she doesn't do anything rash."  
  
It wasn't until later that night after a civil conversation with Connie that John finally decided to contact her after hours of radio silence. "Hey Del, I think I might have just the job to get rid of your itchy trigger finger. Did you bring your guns with you too?" John mused, his eyes following her form as she reached beneath the bed and pulled out her handgun she'd carried with her from bootcamp to present day. "Good. You're gonna be an accomplice for a jewel heist."  
  
She hastily changed into darker clothes, wearing a form fitting black top with dark jeans, lacing her combat boots. "Hey Del, I got your entrance into the residential high rise where the heist is taking place." Zoe mused. "You remember the building?"  
  
"Of course I remember the building, genius." She replied sarcastically, following John inside the high rise. "It was one of the few jobs we did that I actually enjoyed." Delaney lead John into one of her former clients rooms, stepping out into the balcony and beginning to attach her harness to her body to repel down the side of the building. "You better be prepared to go in guns blazing, Mr. Reese.''  
  
"If you die tonight, I'll kill you."  
  
Delaney grinned widely at the man in front of her, taking in his stoic expression before she blew him a chaste kiss. "Let me try a little first, Romeo." John watched as she free fell down several floors, landing on the patio on the 42nd just outside Enver Cleriks apartment. She pressed herself against the wall, waiting for the masked man to appear.  
  
" _Go get 'em gorgeous."_  
  
Johns comment prompted her enhanced adrenaline as she punched the masked man in the head, wrapping her arms around his neck and lowering him to the floor as he fell unconscious. Delaney slipped the mask on, grabbing his weapon before rushing back up into the apartment where Lloyd had just cracked into the safe. " _Miss Chrysler?"_ Finch commented. " _It's about to get a bit loud in there._ "  


"Are you going to shoot me? It's been so long you probably don't know how that thing works." Vaughn jeered. Graham cocked the hammer backward before turning his head, his brow furrowing as he recognized Johns wife standing beside him. "Did you grab yourself a piece of tail, Graham? She's gorgeous."

  
Vaughn jolted, gasping loudly as a handgun collided with the side of his head, his eyes just barely open as he struggled to remain conscious. " _You_ can shut up." She snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. "Graham, you really don't want to do this. You can walk away right now, and go home to your family. Isn't that what you _really_ want?"  
  
"I can't. This has to end."  
  
"If you pull that trigger, then Graham Wyler, the man you really are, dies with him." Graham hesitated before lowering the gun, allowing Delaney the opportunity to knock Vaughn completely unconscious. "I happen to be the keeper of everyones sins. You see this?" She gestured to the failed heist around her, pointing to the unconscious accomplices on the ground. "I help prevent things like this from occurring. You're just another one we happened to save."  
  
It wasn't until they hit the ground floor that Graham finally asked the question she'd been waiting to hear. "Who are you and your husband?"  
  
Delaney breathed in sharply, tossing her mask to the side. "He's your ride home." She replied. "I'm just the one who's trying to convince you not to turn yourself in." Grahams face fell as he remembered Connie, who was most likely curled up in their bedroom comforting their young daughter after finally revealing the terrible truth about his past.  
  
"I can't keep running like this."  
  
"I have a friend who can help you and your family, Graham." She persisted, ignoring Johns presence as he appeared in the shadows behind Graham. "You're not the man you once were, just like I'm not the woman I once was. People change. _We_ change."  
  
"I have to do this." He countered, lightly squeezing her shoulder before turning towards the flurry of red and blue lights, willingly turning himself into the police. Delaney sighed and shook her head, turning to face John as he wrapped his arms around her thin frame.  
  
"At least he's still alive."  
  
John ran his fingers through her hair, pressing a kiss to her hairline before lacing his arm through hers and vanishing into the shadows, just two ghosts on the move once again to their next destination. "Yeah. At least he's still alive."  
  
***  
As she watched Johns final conversation with Graham Wyler, Delaney found herself remembering their earliest moments together and feeling incredibly proud of how far they'd come. Once killers, now she was saving the people of New York along side her best friend and a reclusive billionaire who both loved her deeply, even if they didn't want to admit it. She had grown a deep relationship with John and was hoping to get to know Finch better, and why he never spoke of his past before his accident where his leg had been wounded.  
  
" _What do you think we'll be like, after all of this?" Delaney mused, removing her protective ear plugs as she turned to face John Reese, who was slowly beginning to inch higher and higher in the CIA rankings. "You think we'll always be killers?"  
  
John sat down his weapon and turned to her with the most serious expression. "You are destined for greater things." He spoke firmly. "Me... I'm just wandering down a path and I don't know where it's going. If anyone is going to save the world.. It's going to be you." _  
  
"Earth to Delaney Chrysler!" John exclaimed, snickering as her head shot up, drawing her out of her memory. "What were you thinking about?"  
  
"I was just thinking about the time you told me I was going to save the world." She replied, taking his hand as he helped her to her feet. "And wondering why you thought you wouldn't be saving the world too." John remained silent as her eyes flickered back and forth between the house. "Is this the part where we break up our marriage?"  
  
"It was nice while it lasted, you know. Wasn't it fun?"  
  
All she had ever dreamt about since London was reversing time to the day she'd committed her life away to the military and changed herself forever, preventing her from being able to lead the normal life both of her parents had wished for her. "We still have scotch left. You want to win back some of your money, _Romeo?_ "  
  
It didn't go unnoticed as a red blush crept up Johns face, turning the tips of his ears scarlet as Delaney grinned and sauntered back into the house. Despite the circumstances of their jobs, Delaney Chrysler never failed to make him feel as if he were the luckiest man in the world.  
  
***  
  
Had it not been for the laughter, Finch would've never noticed the two ex-assassins creeping into The Library after finishing their latest number in Far Rockaway. A part of him was glad that he had hired Delaney for the simple reason that she brought out a much calmer, more compassionate side of John he had not seen upon their first meeting in 2010. Finch was not sure of how much convincing it would take on his part, but was confident that one day they would tell each other how they really felt.  
  
He just didn't want it to be too late for John like it had been for him with Grace.  
  
"John, stop chasing me!" Delaney cried out, gasping as John stuck his foot out in front of hers, causing the two of them to topple onto the floor of the foyer. Finch silently watched as he positioned himself above her, his hand on either side of her head as they stared at one another, lost in their own world. "That's a good way to get the girl, stupid. Just kiss me already."  
  
"It'd be my pleasure, if you'd stop complaining about the way I pick up women."  
  
Before John could seal the deal, Finch cleared his throat loudly, alerting the two assassins to his presence. "Mr. Reese, Delaney, I would prefer there be no acts of PDA in the Library if at all possible. Keep it to yourselves." John nodded firmly, standing to his feet and pulling the brunette up with him. "Miss Chrysler-"  
  
"For the last time, when will you start to call me Del?"  
  
Finch snorted softly as he adjusted his glasses, studying the body language of the woman in front of him. It was almost as if she knew what he was about to ask. "I ordered takeout for dinner. Could you go meet the delivery man downstairs?" Her glowing amber eyes shifted between Finch and John before she nodded, snatching the twenty dollar bill from the desk before vanishing down the staircase and out of sight.  
  
"What's this about Finch?"  
  
"I need you to understand something John." Finch voiced, his tone soft as he double clicked on the photo he kept hidden in a encrypted file on his computer. Johns gaze softened as an older picture of Finch and a redheaded woman appeared on the computer screen. "I was in love before I started working the numbers. My accident, the one that crippled my ability to function at a full capacity with my leg was the reason why I left her. I never..." He exhaled deeply to control the tears forming in his eyes. "I never told Grace how I really felt about her, and she's now under the impression that I'm dead."  
  
"What're you-"  
  
"I _see_ the way you look at Miss Chrysler!" He snapped unintentionally, now having Johns full attention. "It's been noticeable since I hired her. You love that woman but you have no idea what to do about it because you're terrified. And believe me, I get it. I know how deeply it hurts to leave people behind like you did with Mrs. Arndt." His body stiffened at the mention of Jessica, but his eyes never tore away from Finchs. "John... I just don't want you to make the same mistake I did. If you truly, deeply love Delaney like I think you do, you need to tell her about it before it's too late. I always said one of us would end up dying in this line of work, what happens if it's you or her?"  
  
Finch managed to curl his lips upward into a smile as John stared at him blankly, unsure of how to respond to his proclamation. He managed to deliver a curt nod before turning on his heel to leave the Library hastily. He knew the costs of such a confession, but if she still remained by his side even with it in the open, everything to come would be more worth it then he knew.


	24. It's Personal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a number that hits a little too close to home.

"Grab the dogs collar and hold him still-" Delaney shrieked as Bear shook his fur, splashing water on her and Finch as John tightly gripped the dogs collar. It was nearly mid-afternoon and due to John's ever constant restlessness, their job of bathing Bear had taken much longer than anticipated. " _John!_ "  
  
Finch had called them in earlier that morning with news on another new number that John had taken particular interest in. "You should've said it sooner." John said smugly, flashing his signature grin before turning to his employer. "You said we had another new number?"  
  
  
Delaney lifted her head to the transparent board behind John, where the photograph of a girl not much younger then herself was secured. "Abby Monroe, an Honors Student at age twenty six with a degree in engineering. She's worked for the last year at a Military Charity, Homes For Our Returning Heroes."  
  
"It's a charity that helps support veterans who lost their homes while serving." Delaney replied, standing to her feet beside Finch. John's eyes followed the toned muscles of her legs up her hips to her eyes that had settled on the computer screen. Given the way she studied their new number, it seemed clear to John that Delaney knew more about the charity then she was leading on. "When I went into the service, my mother became an active part of the charity along with my best friends mom. It was all they did in their spare time."  
  
"Did they accomplish anything?"  
  
Her eyes settled back on Finch as she pressed her lips into a thin line. "They were no trained killers... But our mothers gave veterans more of a home in their hospitality then the four walls and a roof they'd owned. The love they shared... That was many of their homes."  
  
"Well, she quit the charity a week ago to work as a temp in the city planning office." Finch remarked, pouring another bucket of lukewarm water over the Belgian Malinois. As Harold continued to clean their service dog, Johns eyes remained on the form of his closest friend in mind and at heart as she paced the Library deep in thought before settling into Finch's computer chair. "Her younger brother was killed 18 months ago in Afghanistan."  
  
"She could be in imminent danger, Finch. I have to get eyes on her." John responded, quickly throwing on his coat over his damp white dress shirt as Delaney shot up to halt his exit. "What do you think you're doing, Juliet?"  
  
Pulling her coat and signature red fedora off of the rack beside the entry way, Delaney flashed a weak smile before twirling around in the foyer and stopping at the top of the stairs. "Given that Bear is _your_ dog John, I think it's your turn to dry him." She replied sarcastically, leaving an indignant John Reese and a snickering Harold Finch inside The Library while she went to lay eyes on Abby Monroe.  
  
***  
  
Joss Carter parked her car on the curb outside the city planning office and rushed inside the building, her coat billowing behind her as she navigated through the crowd of workers. It had been nearly an hour since her conversation with Donnelly about The Man In The Suit. The CIA agent had seemingly forgotten about his other mission, to bring The Lady In Red into custody for questioning on the people she'd taken out when she had worked alongside Zoe Morgan. "Detective Carter." She introduced, flashing her badge before turning to Delaney, who now had her full attention. "What did we get?"  
  
"You heard the 1031 too, Detective?" The cop parallel to her replied. "This is Detective Holmes." Joss found herself stifling a smirk as Delaney grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at the NYPD detective. "Girl on staff by the name of Abby Monroe downloaded a file illegally and walked out with it two hours ago. No one noticed until it was too late."  
  
"Does anyone know what's on the file?"  
  
"We keep plans here in the building, but all she walked out with was some engineering drawings for the 1400th block of Hanover near Wall Street."  
  
Delaney pursed her lips and heaved a sigh as she rocked on the heels of her feet. Now she finally understood why John loathed gathering intel so deeply; everything was about the detail. He much more preferred to be out in the field and carrying out orders. "Does anyone know where Abby lives?"  
  
"The address she supplied us with is fake, and the number we received was a payphone." The other cop responded as he grimaced, tapping his foot on the ground. Joss' eyes narrowed as Delaney leaned forward to shake the building manager and the cops hands before she scurried from the room with the NYPD detective on her tail.  
  
"Are you kidding me Delaney? _Detective Holmes?_ And where'd the badge come from?" Joss snapped, shaking her head as Delaney pulled out the shield for a former NYPD detective that had, much to his misfortune, run on the offensive side of Johns path several weeks before.  
  
"It's nice to have a boyfriend who can knock people over with his pinky. Also, Sherlock Holmes was my favorite book as a kid." She mused, running a hand through her hair as the two women stood by her police cruiser. "The work you do? It's simple. Flash a badge and people will fall on their knees for you."  
  
"You can't do this, Delaney. You know Agent Donnelly?" A shiver tore down her spine at the familiar name of the CIA agent who had been attempting to track down she and John for the past six months or more to bring them both into custody. "You're lucky he's forgotten about you, but don't think for a moment he's given up on The Man In The Suit. If he gets you... It's the easiest and most successful way to bring John out of hiding. Do you really want that to happen?"  
  
She'd known that from the moment she and John had agreed to become a couple, and the thought of her being Johns weakness made her skin crawl. The possibilities and outcomes of circumstances that involved her being mortally wounded to get to John forced her stomach into knots. Delaney had never wanted to be the cause of Johns death but given the fact he cared more about her then himself, it was becoming increasingly clear that they would take a bullet for one another. That was who they were.  
  
" _You're going to be the death of me one day."  
  
"_No, Joss. I really don't want that to happen." She murmured, lowering her gaze to Joss' as she leaned against the police cruiser. "But you know as well as I do that John would take multiple bullets for you, me, Finch... it's in his nature. Even though he has the heaviest heart, he strives to do more good then anyone else in this world. That's what keeps me going." As she waited for Joss to respond, her eyes landed on two security cameras positioned at opposite angles but both facing the main entrance to the city planning building. "Can you do me a favor?"  
  
"I was waiting for you to ask me that."  
  
"Send Finch the feeds from those cameras?" She pleaded, adjusting her fedora as Carter heaved a sigh and nodded, her fingers tightly gripping the steering wheel. "I owe you a drink Carter!! Thank you!!"  
  
Finch had left twenty minutes before to retrieve coffee, which had left John to listen into every word of Delaney and Carters conversation. A sudden weight lifted from his heart as he listened to her words, spoken so deeply and so genuinely that it gave him a sense of pride he had not felt since entering the CIA. " _Even though John has the heaviest heart, he strives to do more good than anyone else in this world. That's what keeps me going._ "  
  
Ever since Delaney's departure and Mckenna's death, John had been bordering between emotionless killer and compassion driven man. He'd always wondered what it would be like to mirror Kara Stanton, who took lives without remorse and thrived on her victories. Nothing to lose and always a job to fall back on. A shiver ran down the length of his body as he thought more in depth about the path he'd nearly taken. _What kind of man would I be if I had traveled down that road?_  
  
If John had taken the path Kara had died on, he would have never come back to New York after Jessica's death, which had then run full circle into his unforeseen meeting with Harold and stumbling across Zoe and Delaney's paths a year later. Staying in the CIA would've forced him to live his life with no true purpose, without somebody to keep fighting for. Losing Jessica Arndt had been more difficult then losing both of his parents, but it had broken him bad enough for someone else to come along and mend the broken pieces into something so beautiful, so precious, that it was worth staying for.  
  
John Reese was not a whole man yet, and he wasn't sure he would ever be _fully_ mended, but Delaney Chrysler had begun to do exactly that; pick up the pieces and begin to craft something new. A mosaic of scars and untold secrets accompanied by unspeakable pain and suffering. She had made the darkest parts of himself into something to love, and he could never truly thank her for it.  
  
Until one day, _he could.  
  
***_  
  
  
While Delaney was good at gathering intelligence and manipulating certain people to do her bidding, John was much better at following orders and field work. But when the three of them were back in the Library analyzing the tapes Detective Carter had sent over, Delaney found herself awed at what she could see through the video.  
  
Their supposed perpetrator was a veteran with a bionic hand, who had broken into a store containing motorcycles in the Bronx and stolen one of them four days before. Now as she listened to the newest information Joss had gathered and pieced together, their predicament became much more complicated.  
  
"I have to ask, Finch." Delaney remarked, turning towards the billionaire with a skeptical expression on her face. "All of this, the things she's done including stealing the engineering plans and then her supposed boyfriend with the prosthetic hand stealing explosives... A part of me thinks this is much more personal then any of us realize. What leads do we have left?"  
  
"Two, Miss Chrysler." Finch replied, pulling up the location of the payphone Abby had given to the manager of the city planning office. "The payphone number she gave the city planners is located in Queens."  
  
"And the second one?"  
  
"The only stable point in her life for the past year, the charity. I'll check that one out. Would you mind staying here for the technical support while John and I leave?" Delaney nodded firmly, her lips turning upward in a smirk as Harold and John began walking towards the door. "You're awfully happy, Mr. Reese."  
  
Her heart swelled at his next words. "I am. I woke up this morning and felt something I haven't felt in a while. Happiness. Must be this job." Johns voice softened as his eyes flickered behind his boss to where his best woman sat, her hands folded neatly on her lap as she gazed longingly at him. Knowing that they had that type of effect on one another sent warmth through Johns body as he smiled. "And my partner."  
  
Bear let out a whine as his owners disappeared, turning back to his favorite playmate as she tapped into the microphone on both John and Finch's phone, fastening her earpiece into her ear canal as she patiently waited for news on Abby and Shane, and what Harold had gathered at the charity. Her mind shifted back to her days with her mother, and how proud she was of the work she and Anne had accomplished during their years there. Despite their constant arguments upon her return home during leave, Delaney Chrysler had loved her mother more then she had loved herself and often thought of the lessons she'd taught her during her time on Earth.  
  
Allowing her eyes to flicker along the computer screens, her eyes settled on an encrypted file in the corner of Finch's computer screen labeled _For Her._ She easily passed the firewall and found herself staring at a photo that looked to be four or five years old. It was most definitely Harold, smiling up at the camera behind thick, round rimmed glasses with a redheads lips pressed against his cheek. She didn't recognize the woman, but given such an intimate gesture, Delaney automatically knew that she meant more to Finch then she let on.  
  
" _Hey Del? I may or may not need your help._ " Finch responded quietly in her earpiece. " _I've told Shane that we were trying to help him, but I'm staring down the barrel of a gun because I also mentioned that John has Abby."_  
  
Snickering quietly, she gathered her coat and rushed out of the Library. Glancing down the trafficked street, Delaney grinned widely as headlights reflected along the sleek black body of a sport bike a few hundred feet down the road with the keys still in it. "I'm on my way Harry!" She muttered, landing a punch to the temple as another man cried out for her to step away from his bike, her leg colliding with his chest as he fell unconscious on the sidewalk. "Sorry buddy, but I need your bike!!"  
  
  
As she tracked Johns phone she found him in deep conversation with who she could only assume was Abby Monroe. Parking the bike in the shadows, John found himself eyeing the figure approaching. "Did you steal a motorcycle?" He mused, sighing as she nodded and removed her helmet, her hair flowing down to just above her breasts. "Can't say I'm surprised. You did learn from the best."  
  
"Who's she?" Abby remarked sharply as another motorcycle appeared in the distance. "Another one of your partners? I hope she doesn't get in the way like you intend too." As she turned on her heel, Abby whipped around as she came face to face with Delaney whose face held no expression. "Get off of me!"  
  
"I've been in your shoes. I lost my best friend to a bullet that was supposed to take me. I've stopped dozens of people in this hell hole of a city from manipulating and taking advantage of others. Don't do what you're planning, Abby." Delaney said softly, her brown eyes darkening as she found herself on that abandoned London street while clutching the lifeless body of her best friend. She had come so far since that night, allowing herself to fall in love with John and let the walls around her heart fall one at a time. She had found purpose in her job and life since losing her childhood best friend. If she were to ever lose John... She was sure she couldn't handle it.  
  
"I'm going to do whatever I can for the justice that Shane deserves."  
  
Before she could reply, Abby was gone, her legs tightly tucked against Shane as the couple vanished in the distance, the roar of their sportsbike reducing to nothing but gradual noise from the oncoming traffic.


	25. Spoken Secrets

After pinpointing the location of the bank where Shane and Abby planned on stealing Chapel's documents and the money he had stolen, Delaney found herself once again on Johns heels as he took long strides down the stairs of the Library and towards her sportsbike. "Is this a personal vendetta for you, because you didn't save Jessica?" John froze at her words, turning toward the woman he loved as she pulled her hair into a ponytail and reloaded the magazine of her Ruger LC9s. "I know you-"  
  
Before she could fasten her helmet, John lightly rested his forehead against her own and pressed his lips against her forehead, sending a shiver down her spine. "All this time you've been keeping me out of Donnellys line of sight to keep me safe." He whispered, his hands trailing down her sides before lightly gripping her hips. Delaney let out a shuddered breath as she tucked her head beneath his chin, her hands spread across his chest. "But there's a good chance one of us is going to get caught. If it's me... Don't try to save me."  
  
Anger seeped into her bones at his words. "John-"  
  
"A jail cell has been waiting for me for a long time, Delaney Chrysler. I think it's time I spent time in it. Besides.." He spoke, almost as if he were reciting a prophecy, his nimble fingers securing her helmet before straddling the sportsbike. It was a decent fit for him, but much more suit for a woman of her stature. "If it's coming, my Lady In Red can get me out. Can't she?" A pair of chilling brown eyes met his own as she nodded and straddled the bike, her arms snaking around his waist and resting on his abdomen.  
  
"You can still depend on me to watch your back John. I'll never stop."  
  
A warmth filled her from her ears to her toes as her bike roared to life and John began to weave through the New York traffic, the GPS coordinates set for the Merton Watts Bank on the Upper East Side. As the city became nothing but a golden blur, Delaney found her incoherent thoughts drifting to Abby and Shane and how similar they were to her and John when they were younger, before the CIA had seemingly ruined the only life she'd ever had. "Are you ready?" John called out, parking the bike in the side alley beside the bank. "You know what I'm going to say don't you?"  
  
"That you want to keep me out of all danger possible?" She replied sarcastically, a wide grin spreading across her face as John groaned out of annoyance and nodded. "You know as well as I do that isn't going to happen Romeo. You're stuck with me." He gripped her wrist and pulled her flush against him in the side entrance, where the lock had been bent and the door broken into.  
  
"There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with." John murmured huskily, his lips lightly grazing the skin beneath her ear at the same time his hand traveled down her back and removed one of her guns. "You've always sucked with two guns. Harder to aim."  
  
 _You're going to be the end of me, you stupidly handsome man._  
  
She followed John inside the lower levels of the bank, her vacant expression displayed on her face. Despite the pain she'd been through with losing her mother and Mckenna, there was always a part of her to lock away all the human emotions Kara Stanton had forced John to lock away while on a mission. It had taken years for her to understand why, but when she'd been reunited with John, everything had made sense.  
  
"We know you're here to steal Chapels money. But when that happens, then what?"  
  
Shane took a deep breath before speaking. "We want to give it back to the people he stole it from." Justice well served. Delaney managed a weak nod in Abby's direction, suppressing the urge to smile at the younger woman. There was so much determination flashing in her dark eyes that it was almost admirable.  
  
"I admire your determination to destroy Chapel and bring justice to these veterans like us." Delaney replied softly, stepping out from behind John to allow the younger man to see her face. "But did either of you go to the cops, or even better, a lawyer?"  
  
"Abby did. She went to the DA, but Chapel got there first. He threatened to prosecute her for theft and slander."  
  
As she and John listened to Abby and Shane weave the details of their prolonged excursion, Delaney felt her stomach clench at every word. Chapel was the kind of man she would have let die in agony years ago as a medic. Being with John and saving people gave her enough self control to not shoot him on sight. One day, she would reach her breaking point and spill more blood then she knew what to do with.  
  
Her eyes widened at Johns next words. "I assume the bank is through there?" He pondered, his gaze focusing on the wall Shane and Abby were preparing to blow out. "C'mon Del. I know you're thinking the same thing I am. Your mother worked with these people!" Chewing on her lip, Delaney lifted her gaze to Johns steely blue eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul, her fingers grazing the scars on his jaw before she flicked the safety off her gun and nodded. "Thata girl."  
  
" _Miss Chrysler? I would very strongly urge you to turn back now."_  
  
She could hear the concern in his voice for not just her safety, but Johns as well. "Can't live a life like this without taking risks, Harry." Delaney pointed out, wincing as Shane slammed his palm into the detonator and the wall exploded into bits of concrete. "I'll see you on the other side!"  
  
It was another several minutes before Finch spoke again into both of their phone links connected to their wireless ear pieces. _"Delaney, John? I'm seeing what I can only describe as interference on both phone links."_ Delaney turned on her heel from where she stood guard behind John, her eyes following Shanes broad form as he attached the explosives to the ceiling.  
  
"Is it Root?"  
  
Delaney snorted lightly and shook her head. "If that woman ever had the guts to show her face around me again, she'd be the bravest woman to ever cross me since Mckenna when we first met. There's no way it's her."  


_"No, it's a broad spectrum sweep. Heavy duty computer power. Root's more subtle th_ en _that so it must be our FBI friend. Stay off the line and get out now._ _If Shane and Abby won't come, you need to leave them."_  
  
John huffed and turned away from the younger couple to face his partner, the one woman he trusted more then anyone else on the planet. Delaney had not been there physically through his emotional turmoil after losing Jessica, but since they'd parted in 2008, she was always there with him in spirit. Urging him to fight the urge to let the world win and to keep fighting because there was always something worth while in the end. And now as he stared at her straightened, rigid form with her gun held high and her eyes peeled for intruders, John felt a sudden urge to protect Shane and Abby more then he had when their numbers had started. Delaney had been right. It was a personal vendetta for the both of them.  
  
"I don't leave people, and they're bringing down a very bad man. Isn't that what your experiment is all about?"  
  
" _My experiment is about stopping people from getting killed, not robbing banks."_  
  
"Five minutes and we're out of here." John pulled Delaney backward by gripping her hip, wrapping his arms around her waist as they crouched beside Abby and Shane in front of a row of lockers. Clasping her hands over her ears, she leaned against Abby for support as Shane once again detonated the explosives, blasting a hole in the ceiling where the safe deposit boxes were in the bank. "Are you ready?"  
  
Delaney released a breath she hadn't been holding and grabbed Johns hand, lightly squeezing it. "If we get out of here, which we will, we're spending the entire day in bed tomorrow." The bluntness of her statement sent a blush up his body and John could not help but grin as he drew his gun and turned the safety off. But as they waited for Chapels men, a part of her knew that somehow, one of them was getting caught by Agent Donnelly.  
  
"I look forward to it Juliet."  
  
The second that the gunfire began John shoved Delaney behind a blockade of barrels parallel to him, shielding her from the ricocheting shots. Despite the shrill ringing in her ear drums, Delaney felt the beginning of a smile caress her face as she slowly peered over the barrels and continued firing her weapon. "You alright over there?"  
  
A shocked gasp escaped her lips when she heard one of Chapels men cry out, then turned to John with a vicious grin on her lips, her head resting against the barrels. "I always told you I was the better shot, John Reese!"  
  
"You didn't even hit the guy!"  
  
"I was still closer then you, Mr. _I-Knee-Cap-Every-Body!_ "  
  
***  
  
All they had to do was get up to the main bank in thirty minutes. Why did everything have to turn sour so _quickly?_  
  
"You out of ammo yet there Juliet?" John called out, taking another magazine from Shane and continuing to fire blankly into the shadows. Delaney huffed in annoyance and waved around her own weapon before nodding. "C'mon. We've got to dress like bankers before we head up to the top of the bank."  
  
Delaney and John were both dressed for their escape, and as they continued firing at Chapels men, Shane found himself gravitating towards the both of them. "Give me the guns, both of you. You've done so much for us. I'm the one that got us into this mess. John, take your woman and Abby and get out of here." Delaney slowly turned her head towards John, anticipating his next words.  
  
"We got ourselves into this mess and we're all going to get ourselves out. When you get up into the foyer, look for Harold. Take her." He nodded towards the woman beside him, and John noticed his face fall. "I'll be right behind you."  
  
John and Shane were both stunned as Delaney furiously began shaking her head, laying her weapons down on the floor in surrender. "If you're staying, I'm staying." She said firmly, her gaze focused on the three men on the opposite side of the room.  
  
"This isn't a question, Delaney Anne. It's a freaking _statement._ " John snapped, kicking the gun just out of her reach before he pushed her shoulders against the barrels, his face inches from her own. For the first time that night, John saw actual fear lingering in her eyes, both for herself and for their future. It was their fatal flaw; caring more about each other then themselves. It was bound to destroy them one day. "You're going with Shane and Abby."  
  
His heart deflated when she swallowed tears, wincing at the kickback from his handgun as he fired more bullets, a headache beginning to grow at the center of her forehead. "Donnelly is still coming for you!" She cried out helplessly, her hand wrapping around his left forearm as her body hunched over, her eyes now cast on the ground. "I don't want us to leave each other _again_."  
  
John contemplated his options, remembering the light sedative he'd sneaked into his jacket pocket earlier that morning. He could inject it into her bloodstream, rendering her incapable if even for a short time. It would give Shane the ability to carry her up to Harold and away from the immediate danger. If she stayed and helped him, Donnelly not only had The Man In The Suit, but he also had the infamous Lady In Red. And after all the effort she'd put into turning her life around to save people, John Reese was not about to turn his angel into a demon.  
  
With the most serious look on his face, his next words sent a wave of shock through her body so hard she nearly passed out.  
  
" _I love you._ "  
  
The last thing Delaney remembered was the relief that flooded Johns face as she fell backward into Shanes arms, her guns tucked securely into his waistband as the three of them entered the top of the bank and John disappeared deeper into the vault.  
  
***  
  
Harold Finch knew something had gone wrong when he met the eyes of Shane and Abby Monroe, one of which was carrying the unconscious body of his closest friend. He'd heard John's declaration over the phone link, one final sacrifice to keep the woman he loved safe from both the FBI and Chapels men. "Is she alright?" He murmured, quickly checking her over as Delaney curled into Shanes chest.  
  
"John gave her a light sedative." Shane replied quietly, allowing Abby to attach the ID cards Finch had supplied to both himself and Delaney's clothing. "She'll be up soon, but I wouldn't let her do much fighting for the rest of the day. She'll already be pissed enough when she wakes up."   
  
Eyeing the swarm of FBI agents that had entered the building, Finch rose his hands in surrender and tapped on his earpiece with his fingertip. "John, can you hear me? Shane, Abby and Delaney are safe. The FBI are in the bank. You need to get out now."  
  
" _Not gonna make it Harold. Sorry I screwed up. Tell my woman I'm sorry I had to say I love you at the worst time. But I meant what I said yesterday. So thanks Harold. It was fun."_  
  
Delaney let out a deep, guttural groan as she awoke in Shane's arms fast enough to hear the end of Johns statement before his line disconnected. "Where-What-" She murmured as Shane slowly sat her down, his hands gripping her shoulders as she steadily rose to her feet. The last time she had been sedated was _years_ ago, and the effects normally took several hours to wear away. Despite her lack of memory, she still very vividly remembered Johns words before she passed out and the passion hidden in how he spoke it. " _He said he loved me."_  
  
Shane slowly guided Delaney in Harolds direction, allowing her to lean on the older man for support as an FBI agent came up the stairs. The agent took in account the modest, professional clothing before his eyes fell on the young brunette woman who could not focus her eyes on a single object, her face lacking color as she leaned against the older, more well kept man beside her. "ID."  
  
"Harold Wren, these three are my associates." Harold replied. "My third associate is not feeling well, hence her lack of color and excessive swaying. Please excuse her." His eyes studied Delaney as she gripped Harolds shoulder, swallowing the build up of tears in her eyes as she replayed Johns words over and over again.  
  
She hadn't even had the time to say it back.  
  
"Delaney?" Harold said quietly, turning to his closest friend left in the world and lightly gripping her hands. "I need you to keep yourself composed for another moment before we go back to the Library. I'm going to help Abby and Shane dismantle everything Chapel has done and get them safely out of the city. And then I promise," She finally held his gaze as he held his chin high, and for a moment, she felt a sense of pride for the bravery in the man she'd come to love in the past months of working for him. "I'll keep you safe."

Abby turned to Shane and laced her fingers through his own as she thought hard about her next words. She saw herself in Delaney as Delaney saw herself in Abby. A part of her wanted to form a closer, deeper relationship with the other woman but she knew well enough that when Harold found them a new start, neither of them would return to New York.  
  
" _She really loves him, huh?"_  
  
Shane aspired to be the man John Reese was. To not show his love for Abby Monroe in his words, but also in his actions. John had saved the woman he loved for what Shane knew was many, many years to not only keep her safe, but to try and secure any type of future for them. He wanted to love as much in his actions as he did in his words.  
  
" _Yeah. And he really loves her too."_


	26. Emptiness To Fill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired."

As she sat at Harold's computer inside the Library, Delaney had never felt so unsure of herself in her entire life. There had been moments of reluctance when it came to completing a task on a mission, and she had been forced to learn how to turn her emotions down and her ability to fight as high as possible. Mckenna and John had been her reason to stay in the CIA. Even if she had not been assigned larger ops like John had done with Kara. Taking orders had never been her specialty, but John had excelled at taking Karas orders from the first time he'd caught her eye in the Academy.  
  
  
Now she was alone for the _second time_ since Mckennas death, and John was in the hands of the FBI which had been Donnellys intent from the very beginning. With John in Federal custody it was now both her and Harolds job to weave together another cover story and secure his release from Rikers. A small part of her wanted Finch to take care of saving John, but the longer she stared at the burner phone in front of her, the stronger her want to call him was. Of course the billionaire could sneak a cellphone into his cell. It was nearly impossible to doubt him.  
  
Picking up the burner phone, Delaney propped her feet up on the desk in front of her and waited for John to pick up. When the call connected, her palms began to sweat and tears formed in her eyes as his voice drifted through the speaker. "How did I know the Federal Government would be no match for you?"  
  
John felt the breath leave his lungs as he recognized the voice on the other side of the phone that belonged to the same woman who he had confessed his feelings to the night before. "You mean Harold? It's never a match for him. Trust me John. The two of us are working on it. We're going to get you out of there." Delaney said confidently, running a hand through her hair as she watched Finch inside the Brooklyn high school, working on their newest number Caleb Phipps. "I can't- I can not believe you said-"  
  
"I meant what I said." He murmured, turning his head towards the back of the cell as a sharp cry echoed in his ear. It was rare for her to cry anymore, and to hear how wounded she sounded made his heart sink into his stomach. He had never intended to hurt her. "I know you, and I know how you think. None of this is your fault. It's entirely _mine._ Believe me, I'll handle it."  
  
"Finch made preparations for a scenario like this for both you and myself. In the next 72 hours, you're out of there. I'll break you out myself if I have too." She leaned forward and carefully watched as Finch stood in front of a crowd of teenagers, introducing himself as Mr. Swift, their temporary substitute teacher. He had asked her earlier that morning to speak to John and also do the technical work for their number. "Hey Romeo. You keep your head up for me, you hear? Don't let them destroy you."  
  
John inhaled deeply and managed a nod, blushing when he realized she couldn't see him. "It's been a long time since I've been destroyed Juliet. If I know you and Carter, you'll figure something out. I believe in you." She snapped the phone shut and let out a cry of frustration, hurling it at the opposite wall where it shattered into pieces. Bear, who had been in the corner of the room sleeping, shot up at the noise and let out a low whine at the distress radiating off his masters tense body language.  
  
" _Miss Chrysler? Are you alright?"_  
  
Lifting her tear stained face from where it rested in her arms, Delaney swallowed her frustration and anger and let her finger rest against the keys. "I'll be alright when John is back in my embrace, Harry.'' She said softly. "How's the teaching going for you?"  
  
" _It could be better. There's something about Caleb Phipps I'm not getting quite yet. I wanted to inform you of what Detective Carter has informed me of."_  
  
She listened carefully as Finch rekindled the details of what Detective Carter had uncovered so far, deleting Johns fingerprints from the FBI's investigation into the four men they had taken into custody. Her next task which she had made clear would be incredibly difficult, would be to hinder the DNA test.  
  
 _Why don't I just turn myself in? Donnelly wants both of us, not just John. Not only would it be a window of opportunity, it would get my name cleared.  
  
_"Why would you go to all the trouble of clearing your name when you've already got one hell of a legacy?" Her eyes widened as Delaney turned towards the new female voice. Standing in the main foyer of the Library was none other then Zoe Morgan, dressed in her normal classy attire for when she was on the job. "Finch called me, told me the minimal of what happened. John has _awful_ timing."  
  
***  
  
John Reese outstretched his limbs on the small cot his cell provided, his thoughts once again drifting back to the night before in the bank. He had been waiting for years to tell Delaney Chrysler how he'd really felt about her, even during his fling with Jessica. The two women paled in comparison to one another. Jessica had made him feel alive, like he was capable of living a normal life when he returned home from leave. Delaney had been there with him since their first days of bootcamp, keeping him fighting through the multiple gunshot wounds he sustained and the emotional trauma over all his darkest points in life since losing his parents.  
  
He loved both women so deeply and so intimately, and once again he had chosen the wrong time to speak it. Little to her knowledge, John Reese had _so much_ faith in Delaney Chrysler and what the future would bring her. She'd chosen to have compassion for the people around her, going against the odds and cutting open his chest to fish out the bullet that should've killed him. She complemented his darkness in such a way that light still managed to shine through.  
  
As he began to fall asleep, John felt the bed beneath him vibrate, his fingers wrapping around the phone Finch had hidden in his cell. Squinting in the darkness, he suppressed a sob as he slowly read the text message on the small screen over and over again, careful to hide it from the lingering guards outside.  
  
She deserved better then him, but she'd chosen him anyway.  
  
 _I love you too John Reese._  
  
***  
An hour earlier:  
  
 _"You're easier to read then a open book." Zoe mused, lightly clinking her wine glass against Delaneys as they stood together in the Library. She had asked Finch if it had been okay for her to go home, but he had very politely asked her to stay behind in case he was to need her technical assistance. "You're also acting as if I don't know you, Delaney. We did work together for several years and still lived together even when you quit. Why are you being so secretive?"  
  
Her fingers trailed down her arm to her opposite hand where Johns ring sat on her finger, a secret promise to always return to her. "What all did Harry tell you about what happened in the bank last night?" She murmured, lifting her eyes to meet Zoes. "The real gritty details. Not just the surface stuff."  
  
"He told me about the number. Said he would leave the rest of it to you."  
  
She huffed and sat her glass on the desk, making a mental note to remove it later. "We were in the vault trying to hold off a few of Chapels men. John and I always had bets in the CIA Academy about who would one day be the better shot, and turns out that we're equally matched in the matter. He wanted the numbers, Shane and Abby, to make their way to the top of the bank to meet Harold. Of course I wanted to stay behind, because that is what I DO. I care more about other people then I do myself." Zoe's own brown irises never left her face as she sighed deeply before continuing. "It took him about three seconds to evaluate the situation before he sunk a syringe into my neck and said I love you. That's all I remember."  
  
  
Zoe could not help but smirk at the outcome of her situation. She had known since the first moment she'd laid eyes on a bottle driven Delaney Chrysler that John Reese was deeply in love with the woman who had saved his life. Just as she had expected, he had confessed his feelings to her at the worst possible time, but now that it was finally in the open they had more to work with. "Did you say it back?"  
  
"It's not like I actually had time to say it back, Zo." Delaney remarked sarcastically. "Do remember I was unconscious for a good five minutes afterwards. I woke up in another soldiers arms before Finch escorted me out. Let me tell you, it's not comfortable." Upon seeing her phone in her handbag, Zoe snatched the satchel from underneath Harold's desk and dug through its contents only to pull out an Iphone, setting it in her hand. "What are you-"  
  
"He said I love you. It's only courteous enough to say it back. Besides," A devious smile graced her sun kissed skin as Zoe Morgan stood over her best friend. "John would kill me if he let me turn you into the FBI. Let's say we work from a different angle, eh?" _  
  
Present  
As she laid in bed that night, Delaney Chrysler eagerly awaited what the next day would bring her. She would be at the hands and feet of The Machine, using her computer skills to assist Joss Carter in making a believable cover for John that would secure his release from Rikers. Her skin felt chilled without a body to warm the bed they shared in the loft, but she reveled in the fact that soon enough, the love of her life would be returning home to her.  
  
He had filled the waning emptiness that was her heart and taught her how to fall in love with a human as damaged as she was. Delaney Chrysler had seen war, trauma, and the other side of hell just as John Reese had. Even if she didn't deserve the life, the purpose she had been handed, she was adamant that she would live out the Chrysler-Reese legacy so people would remember The Lady In Red and The Man In The Suit.  
  
Human beings don't forget those who morphed into legends. They forget the people who fail to make themselves one.


	27. Prisoners Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life." .. Winston Churchill

"While Detective Fusco works on our latest number, it is up to the two of us to weave a story that Detective Carter can use." Harold spoke, taping a blueprint of the layout of Rikers onto the transparent board in front of his monitors. Delaney sat in a large red plastic chair beside his swivel chair, her fingers flying over the keys of her laptop. "What are you doing Delaney?"  
  
"Copying your cover identities for me and John onto a file and encrypting it." She murmured lowly, her eyes firmly locked on the screen as she saved the file under _Chrysler-Reese. "_ Trust me, Harry. It'll be much more use to both of us. Don't you remember that I can hack too?"  
  
It still amazed him how capable she was and how little he knew about her. John had only told him the bare minimum of her past, but he had done enough digging through The Machine to learn that she had inherited her hacking skills through Mckenna Burns. It seemed that the longer he knew John and Delaney the more he found out about their deceased friend. "John Warren and Delaney Madden are the realest covers we have for the two of you that relate closest to your past. Agent Donnelly has Joss interrogating John as we speak. Our job right now is to make sure we don't make a mistake."  
  
Silence filled the Library as she pulled up the feeds from the camera at Rikers, her eyes falling upon John dressed in an bright orange Prison jumpsuit in the middle of a conversation with Detective Carter. The game they were playing was a psychological nightmare, but it was the only way they could fake out Agent Donnelly. "Finch, can I ask you something?" Delaney spoke, lifting her head to gaze at the billionaire. "Are you afraid?"  
  
"Of losing John? No, Delaney. I am not. What I am afraid of is John not getting what he deserves."  
  
"Which is what?"  
  
Finch chuckled beneath his breath and sat down in his leather swivel chair beside her. "You still don't get it, do you?" He replied, resting his fingers against the keyboard as he continued. "John may have the heaviest heart among us, but he's always had his eyes on what's been most important to him since we met. It's _you._ "  
  
***  
"Hey Joss, don't you worry about anything. Howard French will check out just fine. Finch and I have simultaneously hacked the link between Donnelly's computer and your earpiece. Rest assured, you'll only be able to hear the two of us." She sipped at her coffee, eyeing the numerous amount of popup files on her computer as Finch typed in a rhythmic manner beside her. "So you'll take care of the more difficult details of John Warrens life while I do the things that relate most to me?"  
  
"That's right. When Carter asks John about his personal things, such as his love life and his military background, I will leave that up to you given that you have the most similarities in your past."  
  
It was another several hours before Carter appeared in the box with John, intending to force him to spill the darker secrets he had not yet divulged. "Joss, do remember that Finch and I are working in sync here, so don't rush any of this. Making a cover story look this good takes time."  
  
Carter lifted her head and sat her hands on the small table between her and John. If she was going to do this right, she had to ask the right questions and give the two hackers time to create a story that Donnelly would believe. Her facial expression turned serious as she continued with her next question. "Ever been in love?"  
  
A reminiscent smile tugged Johns lips upward. "Twice. Thing is, I still am. Allison West and Delaney Madden." Delaney leaned towards her laptop and slipped her way into the system, creating the life of Allison West with a simple move of her fingers. "Allison died a few years ago. There's your answer, by the way."  
  
"To what?"  
  
"Why I left the military."  
  
Delaney felt her heartstrings tug as she listened to John weave the most genuine story he'd spoken all night; his final days with Jessica in Niagra Falls at the same time the Towers had fallen in Manhattan. "I was an idiot. I let her slip away, but sooner or later Delaney came into my life like a hurricane. It's funny how the choices you make change who you become. Pick one path or the other. Sometimes I wonder where I'd be if I'd chosen a normal life over the one I took when the Towers fell. Where would I be now?"  
  
From where she sat at her desk Delaney Chrysler watched helplessly, anger replacing the dread in her veins as several of the inmates at Rikers began to land harsh punches to Johns stomach and jaw. She knew that if he were to defend himself that Donnelly would win, and she would never be able to bring home. "Remind me not to kill Donnelly if we ever meet." She growled, her knuckles deadly white as she gripped the side of the desk tightly.  
  
"What are you thinking, Del?"  
  
"He's never been the threat. Donnelly is just someone who wants the real story, to exploit all of Johns background because he doesn't _know._ There's something-someone bigger working behind the scenes here." Her eyes widened as Joss' voice blared through her earpiece, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin. "Jocelyn Carter, don't _ever_ do that to me again!"  
  
"I thought you may want to meet me on the Hudson. I've got one handsome man waiting to be returned to the love of his life."  
  
A wide grin spread across her face as she jumped up from the chair and gathered her coat and hat, sprinting out the door before Finch could even begin to ask where she was going. The cold winter air bit at her skin as Delaney sped down the block on her sportsbike to the place Joss had spoken of, taking to the shadows less then two hundred feet away from where she and John now stood. Fortunately enough, she had similar training to John where they could pick out the assassins in the midst of silence despite how stealthy they were.  
  
Her heart nearly stopped when his eyes locked with hers. "John." She mouthed in awe, her foot forward to run into his arms. At the same moment did Donnelly appear by the curb of the street, his gun raised at both Joss and John who stood with their hands held high in surrender. He was so close, still staring at her with his lips parted as if to call out, but he was held back by the gun in his face. " _John._ "  
  
If she stepped out into the line of sight and gave herself up on top of Joss and John, Delaney knew that he would never forgive her for being so reckless and stupid. Rational thinking always overtook her irrational thinking, and once again she cursed herself for not being more willing to step up and sacrifice herself just once. "Congratulations Carter." Donnelly growled, his eyes flickering between Joss and John. "You just caught the Man In The Suit. Drop your gun, hands in the air."  
  
"It's over John." Carter muttered dejectedly. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you home to her."  
  
John remained silent as Joss secured her cuffs around his wrists tightly, submitting her own weapon to the FBI agent before he too cuffed her wrists. Both of them were still oblivious to the woman leaning against the dead tree in front of the river, her red fedora tipped over her face just enough that she could still visibly witness the scene in front of her. "I trusted you Carter, and you threw it away along with a very promising career. It's a shame I didn't get to meet the infamous Lady In Red. I've been wondering what hole she disappeared to. Maybe it was her own grave. I bet the three of you would've been great friends."  
  
"I'm sorry. It was my fault."  
  
There he was once again, John Reese blaming himself for all of the things going wrong when it in fact was not his fault. As Donnelly droned on ( _I really hated his character._ ) John lifted his gaze to the shadows just to be able to stare at his beautiful, hellbent assassin one more time before hell broke loose. As the three of them boarded a black SUV, their driver was blissfully unaware of the bike following their every move from several hundred yards away.

She heard the crash before she saw it.  
Kara Stanton stood over the now unconscious body of John Reese, slowly dragging his body from the wreckage and checking over his physical appearance as she stashed him in another vehicle. "Hiya lover. Did you miss me?" She mused, slamming the passenger door shut before she stepped into the drivers side and vanished into the darkness. Delaney stood at the top of the street, the urge to suppress her screams of frustration and anger becoming more difficult the longer she stared at the scene.  
  
The one woman who had ruined John Reese now had him in her custody. 

The one woman who had constantly berated her for her overwhelming sense of empathy and compassion was now playing a very dangerous game. 

Be killed by her hand

Or be killed by the world?  
  
" _You just entered the deepest part of hell, darling._ _I'll be sure to see you to the end._ "


	28. Vengeance Best Delivered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before you embark on a journey of revenge,  
> Dig two graves.  
> \- Confuscius

Joss Carter groaned as she woke, wincing as blood trickled down the side of her head. The car she and John had been in was nothing more then a bent piece of metal, shards of broken glass scattered around the remains of Donnelly's body. Her heart sank when she realized that the mystery woman had fired two bullets; one into his head and one into his heart. The FBI agent was dead.   
_"Detective Carter? Are you alright?"_

  
"Finch!" She cried out, thankful to hear the billionaires voice. "I'm fine, I just can't get myself out of these cuffs!"  
  
" _Miss Chrysler is on her way down the block to assist you. Find the keys."_  
  
While Joss slowly inched her way out of the window, Delaney was assessing her situation from where she stood at the top of the street, her thoughts confused and angered all at once. The CIA had presumed Kara dead after their ordeal in Ordos when she and John had been ordered to take out one another, so why was she here? And _why_ did she take John?  
  
Inhaling the cold, clean air, Delaney sprinted down the street to where her friend stood, scanning her exhaustion before turning her attention to the wound on her temple. "Listen to me Jocelyn." She muttered, wrapping her arm around the detectives waist. "I'm taking you back to Johns loft. No one knows where it is besides Finch and I. I need to stich you up. I'll inform him I have you when we arrive."  
  
***  
John woke in the back of a bus beside Mark Snow, a bomb securely strapped to his chest and Kara Stanton sitting across the aisle from him. His first thought turned to Delaney and the look of utter horror he'd seen upon her face when Donnelly had arrested The Man In The Suit, confident that John would be tried for his crimes.  
  
"I know that look you get John, right before you try something stupid." A devious smile crossed Karas lips as she leaned against the tops of her knees to draw herself closer to Reese. "Not only do you have enough semtex strapped to your body to spread alot of misery around, I also have intel that tells me your pretty little girlfriend, who should have been _dead_ years ago, is around as well." She turned her phone screen to John as she handed both him and Mark two wireless earpieces. "If you step out of line in any way, Delaney is dead. Now is that what you want?"  
  
"If you lay a hand on her-"  
  
"Oh believe me, we'll be meeting soon enough. It's a real shame though that you two were brought back together, John. She'd already softened you up enough when we met. Believe me," She gripped his chin roughly, her brown eyes meeting his cold blue gaze. "You think you can change? Trust me, lover. All you'll ever be is a cold blooded killer just like _me_."

 _*****_  
  
Finch could not help but feel concerned as he watched Detective Fusco and Carter approach him, his eyes peering out from behind his glasses as he watched Delaney pace the cluster of trees several hundred yards to his right. When he had hired her, Zoe Morgan had informed him firsthand of her attachment to John Reese and how incredibly protective she was of him. And when he had met John, he had claimed his only viable purpose to exist in this world was to reunite with the woman he called _Del._  
  
John had been through hell and back in the past ten years, and to have him return to the same hell more helpless then before made the billionaire feel sick to his stomach. The two of them did not deserve the trials that life had handed them. This world was cruel, and much to his fortune, Delaney Chrysler and John Reese had endured the worst of cruelty and managed to still stay standing. He admired them both deeply for their perseverance and strong will. It would get them farther then they ever imagined.  
  
After asking the detectives to fill in the empty spots of Kara's story, Finch shuffled in the grass towards the angered woman. "Delaney?" He called out quietly, gaze softening as the woman whipped around, revealing her expression. Tears marked their way down her pale skin, her normally brown eyes now an angry blue and red rimmed. "Your eyes-"  
  
"They change color with my emotions. It's weird, I know. Most of the time they're brown." She replied, shrugging as she gripped the ends of her hair. "I am so _exhausted_ Finch. You want to know what I'm exhausted of? Losing the people that matter to me!" Finch remained silent as she continued her confession. "First it was Mckenna, who gave her life to save mine because she thought I was too important. Zoe nearly had her life taken, but thank God she's smart enough to know how to defend herself! And now, for the second time, John has personally been delivered into the hands of Satan, and I can't do ANYTHING to help him. Have you ever felt so helpless?" Her voice cracked as her phone vibrated in her pocket, an incoming phone call she decided to ignore. "I-I love him, and if I were to lose him, I would lose myself. I can not take another funeral."  
  
Harold took several steps forward to approach the hysterical woman, lightly squeezing her hands. It wasn't the ideal way to comfort someone, but it was enough. "I have felt so helpless, yes. But that is a story for another day." Delaney sniffled, lowering her gaze to glance at her friend. "I know I have not conveyed it, Miss Chrysler, but I do care a great deal for you. I am a private man-"  
  
"As I've seen."  
  
"And when I hired you and John, I did not expect what I had planned to be colleagues to become such good friends." He lightly patted her hand, guiding her in the direction of the sidewalk. "Now, we will go back to the Library and wait for news from Detective Carter while you freshen up, and I make tea. I make a killer green sencha tea." A watery smile crossed her lips as she nodded, lacing her arm through Harolds as she laid a kiss on his hairline.  
  
***  
  
It was twenty minutes before Finch received the text of a military slang she had not heard since being deployed to Afghanistan. "I just received a text titled UXO." Finch replied, directed to Carter but still able to be heard at her spot beside him while she sipped her tea, freshened up from her hysterical sobbing. If she was going to eliminate Kara Stanton, she had to have a clear head and be focused on the task at hand.  
  
"Now that is a term I have not heard in a long time!" Delaney exclaimed, folding her hands behind her head. "I was a part of the bomb squad after Afghanistan. I was far more concerned about keeping more people alive then killing them like I'd done when I was first deployed. UXO is the miltary designation for unexploded ordinance." Her eyes widened as she and Finch both turned to one another. " _John._ "  
  
The only plausible sender of the text had to have been John, which meant her assumption was correct. After all these years, she was going to save John from the one thing she had trained to defuse when their story had started. And if the window came, she was going to make Kara Stanton pay. "Sending you the number! You need to track the location it was sent from, Detective."  
  
" _I'm on it!"_  
  
Finch lifted his gaze from the row of monitors to the locker in the corner of the room, where Delaney was pulling out multiple handguns of different styles, along with a camouflaged belt to wrap around her waist to hide her knives. "What are you doing? You know how we handle these numbers!" He winced as she slammed the locker door shut, pulling her hair into a high ponytail as she slid her handguns into the waistband of her jeans.  
  
Once again, her eyes were a steely blue identical to Johns. He could see the fury lingering deep within ready to be unleashed. She had spent so long trying to conceal the anger she felt to the point where it had become unhealthy. Just like John, Delaney needed the ability to grieve and she had not received it. Human beings have to feel emotion or else they're nothing more then an empty shell. Incapable of feeling even the deepest types of pain.  
"Kara Stanton is a lethal threat, and after everything we've done together, I'm not ready to give up John just yet." She snapped unintentionally, her face falling when she recognized the resigned look on Harolds face. "This is a side of me I never wanted you to see, Harry. A side I keep locked up."

"Why?"  
  
"Because no one wants to see the demon emerge from the angel, am I right?" She joked, huffing as she pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. A part of her wished Kara had slapped her around during her time in the Academy so she could fine tune her emotions the same way John had mastered it. "I'll leave my comms on, but there's no guarantee I don't put a bullet in between her eyes. They may have called me Healer.. but I can take a life as easily as I can save one."   
  
"Do you think that revenge is best served by others?"   
  
Delaney pursed her lips before turning outward, extending her hand out to wrap her fingers around her favorite tube of lipstick. "I think I'll do what needs to be done. It's not going to be me that kills her." She spoke sincerely. "The world will do it for me."   
  
***  
Joss and Fusco found themselves arriving at the same time Delaney did, her attire analogous to the uniform she had worn as a part of the bomb squad years ago. "When did Amber here become a part of the bomb squad?" Fusco whispered lowly. "And how'd you get in here? You're not-"  
  
They both resisted the urge to groan when she held up a NYPD badge. "I've told you both this before, having John Reese as your boyfriend has its perks. Flash a badge and people will kneel." Her eyes flickered to the row of elevators beneath her cap, her grip tightening on her hips. "I was a part of the bomb squad, Fusco. If Reese is attached to a bomb, I'm going to defuse it."  
  
Before either detective could argue, Delaney approached the other cops and explained that there was a situation upstairs and she was the lead agent for the NYPD Bomb Squad sent to evaluate the situation. Carter cursed under her breath as her friend casted her one last look before vanishing into the elevator. "Finch?" Carter muttered. "We have a problem. Delaney just eased her way past the cops and into the elevator. I think she means to take out Stanton!"  
  
" _I can not stop a storm when it is unleashed, Detective."_  
  
The elevator doors quietly slid open to the twenty first floor, and Delaney stepped out into the hall, her gun high in the air as she checked for lethal threats. Kara was up here somewhere along with Mark and John who could both blow the entire block to hell if they made a wrong move. " _Break it up boys."_ Kara chided, her phone in one hand and gun in the other as the doors opened to the server room, where she could see Johns body in the doorway. He hadn't seen her yet which granted her the element of surprise.  
  
John and Mark both saw her as she stood behind Kara, her gun aimed for her left shoulder. Not a lethal spot to kill her, but she surely would be wounded enough for a takedown. John unfortunately spoke more with his eyes then he did his mouth, and both guns went off at the same time. Delaney winced as Karas bullet grazed her temple, blood clinging to the few strands of hair that had framed her face. Her bullet had made its mark and left the other former CIA agent rendered helpless, if only for a moment.  
  
"It's nice to see you've alive Kara!" She jeered. "My friends call me Delaney, but for you I can make the exception. You can call me The Lady In Red." Mark and John were acutely aware that it would be a difficult fight, especially when the blood loss from the head graze began to stifle her agile movements. Kara slowly straightened her spine to the best of her ability and smirked, tossing her gun to the side.  
  
"I knew we would meet again at some point, Del. Didn't I ever tell you that of all the recruits, you were the one who had the biggest heart?" Delaney stepped sideways as Kara tried to land a punch to her jaw. "That's a shame. You can't have a heart when you're in this job."  
  
 _Keep your eyes on Stanton. You falter and she wins._  
  
All the anger, the frustration and hurt that she had felt since that night in London came roaring back at once, and Kara was not prepared for what she received. John watched in utter awe as Delaney round house kicked Kara nearly into the row of computers behind her, lunging forward and twisting her arm behind her back painfully enough for her to double over. Crying out in alarm, Kara stomped on her combat boots in hopes of causing her to cry out as well, but found herself pinned to the floor by Delaneys knee, hatred flaring in her now brown eyes as she pulled a hidden knife from her belt.  
  
"You want to know what I think Kara? I think you're cold hearted and took out all your anger of not ever having someone to love you on John. You _knew_ he had a promising future as an CNS Agent but chose to tear him down anyway. And for what gain?" Malice flooded her face as she drug the tip of her knife along Karas cheek, drawing enough blood to stain her porcelain skin and continued with another on the opposite cheek. "For you two to only kill each other later? That's hardly poetic."  
  
" _Go-To-Hell."_  
  
"I'm not going to make you pay for what you did." She stood to her feet as Kara slowly stood to her own, blood now matted in her hair that had fallen from its ponytail. It had been a long time since John had seen a look of such exhaustion on the woman he loved, but it was there. And she had just given into it. "I think I've scarred you enough. But let me tell you, I'm the closest thing to heaven you got on this side of hell. Sorry you had to miss it."  
  
  
"You-You never had the nerve to get the job done!" Kara spat, ignoring the blood on her cheeks as her focus was now entirely on Delaney. "I'm not going to kill you either. You should consider yourself lucky I didn't shoot you on sight. But I did tell John if he stepped out of line that I would kill you. Lucky he's dedicated." She turned to the wall of servers, wincing with every step she took as she slid the drive into the wall. "You can't stop what's coming. Thanks for trying to rectify your failure by wounding me, Chrysler. You just made up for losing your partner in London. Wow, was _that_ the biggest failure."  
  
Before she could even comprehend what was going on, Kara pushed Delaney from the room as she simultaneously walked out, both women gazing at each other with hatred written across their face. Resigned to what she had once been driven by, Delaney slid down the wall as Kara disappeared around the corner. Her vision faded in and out as words were exchanged between Snow and John, who was now on the floor beside her. "Delaney-Hey sweetheart, you need to look at me." John knelt in front of her, his fingers bloody as he examined her wound. "Fusco, Joss, get Delaney out of here."  
  
"You are NOT dying for me, Reese!" She screamed, thrashing as Fusco wrapped his arms around her waist. "You've sacrificed yourself far too many times for me and I am not having it anymore! I'm not letting you die, not when I have the skills to save you!"  
  
"I love you." He murmured, prying her from the Detectives grasps as Fusco forced Carter into the stairwell that lead back to the bottom of the building. If he allowed Delaney to walk out with Joss and Lionel it would only make his job of defusing the bomb ten times more difficult. It would also lessen his chance of survival. "I'm taking you up to the roof and Finch is coming to get-" Ignoring his words, Delaney carefully gripped the lapels of Johns shirt and pulled his head down to hers, her hands sliding up to his jaw as their lips connected in a deep kiss.  
  
It had been a long time since he was this close to her, and John felt his longing to be near the woman he loved increase as her fingers danced along the frame of his jaw. He pulled away slowly, his teeth grazing her bottom lip as they entered the roof from the stairwell only to find Finch waiting on the roof as well. Delaney rested her forehead against his, taking a step backward towards Finch to focus her attention on Reese. "You're going to let me defuse your bomb vest because it is the _right_ thing to do." She snapped, oblivious to Johns grin as Finch pressed a cloth to the side of her head. "And after this is over, we _are_ going to have a day off because that is what _we_ deserve."  
  
Always so persistent.  
  
"Are you sure you can do it?"  
  
"Are you doubting me John Reese?" She muttered, pulling her cellphone from her pocket as John dropped his gun and kicked it to the side. "I'm offended. Don't ever doubt me again." His fingers slowly wrapped around the frame of her hips as she pulled up the IMEI numbers on her phone with Finch's guidance. "Alright, time to pick a winner."  
  
"You know, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead without the two of you. If it wasnt for this job, of course. You both gave me a purpose again and it's the greatest feeling in the world."  
  
"I am _trying_ to save your life, you idiot. Stop being sentimental for thirty seconds please!" She deadpanned, her vision still slightly blurred as Finch applied continual pressure to the wound on her temple.  
  
Tears welled up in her eyes as she slowly pressed the IMEI unlock code to the keypad on Johns chest, just barely managing to defuse the bomb under the 10 seconds that were left. All three breathed a sigh of relief as she pried the vest from his body along with his shirt, laying them in the gravel as carefully as possible before she jumped into his embrace, locking her legs around his waist.  
  
Finch felt as if he were stepping into an incredibly private moment as John stumbled along the rooftop, his own tears hidden by her veil of hair as Delaney gripped him like her life depended on it. Johns sobs were silenced in her neck as he inhaled the smell of blood and faint jasmine, the smells that made her Delaney Anne Chrysler. Even after nearly losing him twice in the same time period, covered in blood and tears, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. And she was his. "If I wasn't clear enough, I love you too." She murmured breathlessly, laughing as John lightly kissed her head before sliding his shirt back on and picking her up bridal style. "What are you-"  
  
"You have a superficial head wound, genius. Go to sleep." He murmured into her hair, pressing his lips against her hairline. "Sleep tight Princess." 

Kara Stanton ambled down the sidewalk on the street below, gritting her teeth in a futile attempt to draw her attention away from the profusely bleeding wound in her shoulder. Greer had promised her the answer as to who had instigated Ordos if she had completed her given task successfully. A part of her regretted not taking Delaneys life. The larger, more rational part of her knew that the former agents words were true. Of all the agents she'd help Mark to train, Delaney had the biggest heart to save people and more compassion then the entire CNS department. She envied her ability to feel as deeply as she did.   
  
"You know what Kara?" Mark Snow mused, smirking as Kara turned around with alarm written across her face. "Delaney was right. The world was going to take care of you. And being dead? I'm going to be great at it."   
  
The street was illuminated in a fury of orange as the car exploded, scattering bits of shrapnel and glass on the street. The only remaining evidence of Karas investigation into Ordos was a scrap sheet of paper that floated gently onto the street, the name Harold Finch written in bold before the paper crumpled into ashes. 

***  
 _You think you can change? Trust me lover. You'll only_ _ever be a cold blooded killer, just like me_.  
  
As John slowly ventured to his apartment loft after a rather difficult night, Delaney leaned against the cool white wood of the windowsill, her eyes gazing upon the courtyard beneath her that was slick with rain. Her fingers ventured up to her head wound, slowly running over the sutures that had been weaved through her skin by the paramedics. Joss Carter had been so concerned for her wellbeing that she had transported her to the loft by her cruiser.  
  
" _What you and John need right now is one another._ "  
  
She had immediately changed into the largest shirt of Johns that she loved; a lavender buttonup that cascaded down her thin body to the top of her thighs. Pulling her hair up had been a necessity at that moment, and as she waited for John to return home, Delaney Chrysler wanted nothing more then to comfort the love of her life and be comforted by the love of her life.  
  
"Are you going to leave?" John called out, tossing his coat and shoes to the side despite his immaculate tendencies that he'd picked up from the military. "I fully expected you to be gone by now. Why are you still here?"  
  
Delaney stood to her feet, the cold causing her to shiver as she took long strides over to John and settled her hands on his chest. He froze at even the smallest touch, his eyes shifting down to stare into her own. "Because you told me you loved me. You confirmed how you've felt for god knows how long, and now we can keep going." Her hand drifted up to his cheek, her thumb running on the bags beneath his eyes before drifting to trace his lips as tenderly as she possibly could. Always so tired, never giving into the exhaustion but pushing through it because it was what he had been taught. It was all he knew. "John, you need to hear me loud and clear. I _adore_ you. I have loved you since the moment you slammed into me at bootcamp and nearly made Mckenna lose her stomach from laughing so hard. You have made my life so much brighter by being in it, and I'm not about to throw it all away when we are just beginning to live it _together._ "  
  
After living a life without a mother and father, one of which had been lost to the horrors and cruelty of war, John had never experienced what it was like to have someone love him unconditionally. Staring into the eyes of his best friend he found more love and devotion then he had ever imagined. "I can't tell you how proud I am of you." John whispered, swallowing the urge to sob as she slowly began to unbutton his dress shirt. "You have come so far, and even when you had the opportunity to kill Kara, who wronged you in so many ways, you still let the world do it for you. Revenge is best served by God, and he took the two people that made our lives hell."  
  
Discarding his shirt, Johns hands slid down to grip her hips as she threaded her fingers through his salt and pepper hair. She rested her forehead against his own as he tilted his head and captured her lips. That moment they fell into their own little world, nothing more then whispers of affirmation and tender touches as they fell closer to his king sized bed against the wall. Allowing John to lay kisses on her jaw and the column of her neck, she turned her head just enough to whisper everything she had been thinking since they had come back into one anothers lives.  
  
" _I live to love you."  
  
"We protect each other."  
  
"We save people because that's our fatal flaw. Caring for others more then ourselves." _  
  
John shifted his position, lifting his head to stare down at her swollen lips and her dilated pupils. He twirled a finger around a loose strand of oak colored hair before collapsing at her side, curling in on himself as he rested his head on her stomach. Rain fell against the window and onto the street as she succumbed to the warmth that was John at her side. "We're going to be legends, John Reese." She mused, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead as his eyes began to flutter. "All legends have to start off as heroes."  
  
His breathing slowly deepened until John was fully asleep to the gentle lyrics of a song that burned into his memory for the years to come. John had never felt more content then in that moment, asleep on the woman he loved, and happy for the first time in what felt like his entire life. "I think you're going to be the woman I adore for the rest of my life." John murmured into the shirt she wore, his hand resting against her abdomen. "And I think I'm going to fall more and more in love with you the further we go."  
  
 ** _Fools in love  
Is there any other kind of lovers?  
  
Fools in love  
Is there any other kind of pain?_**


	29. Peace

One of the things they had both been dreaming of since their time in the Military was waking up and feeling peace, basking in the warmth of the person you love. Limbs tangled, shared kisses, enough laughter to cure even the sickest of diseases. So when John woke up with his arm carelessly thrown over Delaneys waist, his nose buried in her dried hair, he let out a deep sigh of relief. The last time he had woken up feeling such a joy as he felt now was the day the Twin Towers had fallen and he'd been in Niagra Falls with Jessica.  
  
It was nearly ten o clock and the house was silent, the indication that Finch had indeed taken note of Delaney's demand to allow them the day off. John yawned and slowly stretched out his aching limbs, his finger trailing above her waist to the warm flesh of her stomach while he brushed hair away from her neck. " _Fools in love,_ " He murmured deeply, his voice carrying in the silence. " _They think they're heroes because they get to feel no pain._ "  
  
A sleepy smile spread across Delaneys face as her eyes fluttered open, curling into Johns embrace as she squinted into the morning light. It was rare to hear John sing because he had been convinced he was an awful vocalist, but since they'd reunited, he'd sing her to sleep and use the benefit of his low voice to sing her awake. On top of that, his lips were a renewed warmth to her body. " _I say Fools in love are zeroes... I should know. I should know because this fools in love again._ "  
  
They stared at one another, drinking in the sight of being in each others arms, her fingers trailing the cracks and lines that had etched their way onto Johns face over time. Even with the emotional baggage he would never surrender, and the constant fear of self sacrifice, John Reese was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He cared for her more then anyone had in her life, and he was one of the two ways they remembered Mckenna Burns. Not through the objects she had left behind, but through each other.  
  
"I heard you singing it in the shower the other day." He murmured, spreading his hands out over her hips as he buried his face in the area where her neck met her shoulder. "Thought it was a fitting song."  
  
"I learned to play it on the piano." Delaney replied softly. "While I was with Zoe, she had a piano that sat in the corner of the living room. She never knew how to play, so I took up my piano skills from high school and started playing it again. I thought... it reminded me of us."

John propped himself on his elbow and smiled widely, pecking her lips lightly before throwing his long legs over the side of the bed, ambling into the kitchen to begin preparing her favorite breakfast. Chocolate chip flapjacks coated in maple syrup with a side of bacon. "I'm going to make you your favorite breakfast, and then we're going to watch some really cheesy movie."  
  
"Like... Hunchback of Notre Dame?" Delaney mused, hopping onto the island in the middle of the kitchen as John began to mix the batter into a paste. Her eyes glimmered with excitement as she watched a deep red blush spread across Johns face. "Good Lord John, it's a _musical!_ And a Disney movie!"  
  
She leaned back on the heels of her hands, watching as John flipped several pancakes in the air and landed them on a plate, sliding it to the side. He had twice the elegance she did, even in his clean movements of flipping the spatula in his hand. His eyes focused on the pancakes he'd finished before pulling out a carton of eggs and cracking an individual egg on the side of his skillet. "It's a good movie with a solid storyline and-" He halted his sentence and turned to face her, his eyes gazing up and down her body. Delaney was leaning backward on the island, her bare legs crossed at her ankles and his shirt hem ending in the middle of her thighs. Just the slight of Delaney Chrysler was enough to arouse him in a way he didn't expect. "You ready to eat?"  
  
"Aren't you hungry too?" Delaney questioned, raising a perfectly curved eyebrow as he cut into a piece of the chocolate flapjack. "Or are you just going to eat my food?" John swayed his hips as he pressed himself between her legs, pushing aside his shirt to press kisses on the skin beneath her collarbone. She pressed her lips together when his teeth grazed her skin lightly, intending to leave the mark that she was his. "This is better."  
  
"Eat your food and shut up. I fully intend to watch this movie with you in my bed!"  
  
***  
  
After a rather peaceful breakfast, she had somehow convinced John to embrace the weather and travel with her to the gym a block away from the loft to work on their sparring. Despite her coming and going aching with her knee, she had not been on the top of her game since training in the CIA and John was the best teacher for self defense. She hoped to gain back the strength she'd had in their early days.  
  
"This is what you need to do." John persisted, discarding his white muscle shirt in his duffel bag before making his way back to the center of the large red mats spread out across the training area. "I know you're focusing on my body, but you can't let yourself get distracted like this. Focus on the matter at hand. When you're being attacked or threatened by the perpetrator, what do you _do?_ "  
  
Her mind raced at a million miles a second as Delaney gathered her thoughts, just barely dodging the punch John nearly delivered to her stomach. "Deliver a right hook to the side of the jaw," She replied, light on her feet as she lunged outward and caused John to stumble. "Followed by either kicking out the legs from beneath the perp, or my personal favorite.." John caught her hands in his own, knocking her legs out from beneath her and snickering as she was slammed into the ground, knocking the wind out of her. "Surprise."   
  
Johns eyes gleamed mischievously as he straddled her waist and pressed a light kiss to her lips before standing to his feet. "You just have to focus on the take down." He remarked matter of factly, his face lacking its normal compassionate expression as he approached her with full force. Her mind reeled backwards to her training in bootcamp with McKenna and John, how the two of them fought elegantly, their counters concise and well formed. "Think about what you're trying to protect. Do you _want_ your most loved ones to die?"   
  
_McKenna smirked from where she leaned against the wall of their minuscule gym on base, chuckling as John easily pinned down Delaney. "Del, you're trying too hard. Your motions have to be fluid and concise with your focus in mind. What are you fighting for?_ "  
  
Swallowing her pride and distraction, John watched as Delaney's facial expression changed and she came at him full force. Her moves were the most concise and well executed he'd seen in months. Once Delaney swallowed her distracti0on and focused on what she was fighting for, she was more deadly. Deadly, sexy, ex-CIA agent Delaney Anne Chrysler.  
  
Panting as she tightly wrapped her legs around John waist, Delaney tilted her head and leaned backward, bending her back and positioning herself for a handstand until she was on the mat. "Well, we just learned that I'm more agile then I remember despite my _stupid_ knee problem. Was that better?" His tongue darted out to lick at his dried lips as John nodded firmly. "So I have to block out my distractions, which just so happens to be you?"  
  
"Apparently so." He replied curtly, swiping his sweaty hair away from his face. "I think that's a good start for today. Want to go get something to eat? I have another thing to do." She adjusted her aching body in her black under armour shirt and managed a smile despite the heat radiating from her body. "How much Dutch do you know?"  
  
"Not enough. That wasn't exactly a necessity when I was defusing bombs in Afghanistan. I'm fluent in Arabic and some Russian since I took it in high school. I didn't have a Kara Stanton to teach me anything else." Her tone was bitter as Johns face fell, and regret rose into her eyes. It wasn't often that she brought up Kara to bring John back into reality, but sometimes it was a necessity to break his heart no matter how much pain it brought her. "I'm sorry. It's just... You have much more training in this kind of stuff then I do."  
  
"It's who we are, Del. I'm better at the hand to hand, but you have your gifts too. Hacking? Your gift. Love?" He said quietly, leading her into the locker room where they could change their clothes. "Your gift. Shooting with an deadly accurate game? Was your gift." Her heart palpitated as John winked at her, applying deoderant to beneath his arms before putting on his dress shirt. "But now I'm better at it."  
  
"Can you not be full of yourself for five minutes?"  
  
John merely smiled and shrugged on his jacket before running his fingers through his hair. His smile widened when Delaney leaned over to grab her white teeshirt, his fingers lightly trailing down her sides and causing her to yelp. " _John!_ " She shouted loudly, chasing him through the gym and out the front door with her duffel bag over her shoulder. "You don't tickle a woman while she's getting dressed! That's just _rude!_ "  
  
Many passersby watched with amused expressions as a tall woman chased an equally talk man through Manhattan, their pace slowing when they approached the vicinity of the Library. John bent over at the waist on the sidewalk and inhaled deeply to regain the breath he had lost. Running at full speed, Delaney jumped onto his back, locking her legs around his waist and smacking him rather hard in the head. "That-was-the-most exercise I've had in _forever._ And I'm the one who takes initiative to remove the perpetrators, with my _hands._ "  
  
"You're old John. Get used to it."  
  
Finch nearly jumped out of his skin when the two of them collapsed in the hallway, laughing hysterically as Bear came bounding out of his bed to greet his masters. He stood to his feet and adjusted his glasses, ambling down the hall after his dog to greet his friends. "Mr. Reese, Miss Chrysler. You two look like you have had a rather fulfilling day." He commented, cocking an eyebrow as Delaney lifted her head, revealing her reddened face from laughing so hysterically. "Look, Miss Chrysler. You've made John laugh!"  
  
"John laughs all the time, Harold. It just takes alot to make him laugh that hard." She replied sarcastically, smirking as John lightly tapped her nose before the two of them walked down the hall and back into the Library. "Now, I think we've had enough of a peaceful day for two assassins. I've got my training," She shook the tension out of her arms and rotated her head slowly before meeting Harolds gaze. "Which will continue, but we are ready for a new number. Have any come in?"  
  
"It's been several days since we've gotten a new number."  
  
Both of their faces fell simultaneously.


	30. Sameen Shaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?  
> Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?  
> Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?  
> Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?
> 
> Gasoline By Halsey

_From where she sat in the bar, government assassin Sameen Shaw casually sipped on her martini, her calculating gaze following the party goers ambling around the room, mingling with one another. She had never been gifted with people and merely tolerated working with Cole but she cared about him. "Enjoying the party, Sam?" Cole mused, leaning against the wall of the stakeout 15 passenger van parked outside the gala. "How are our numbers?"_

  
_Her eyes settled on a blonde and brunette less then two hundred feet away from her, the blonde dancing with a ruggedly handsome man she assumed was the trafficking leader; the brunette taking to higher ground to scout out the area for more perpetrators lingering amidst the flurry of guests. "They're good at blending in, I'll tell you that." She picked up her phone and unlocked the screen, gazing down at the two pictures. "Mckenna Burns and Delaney Chrysler. CIA, both in their twenties. Chrysler's a computer freak and Burns is the killer. I can see it."_

  
_"You just keep an eye on our numbers, Shaw. The first one that came in was Burns, so she's the one to keep the threat away from."_

  
_It was nearly an hour later when Shaw realized that the two women had indeed left the building, along with the hosts daughter and the trafficking leader. She'd read in the mission file that Joshua Black had a sex trafficking ring in Central London that catered to men between 25-40. Had she been in the younger girls position, she would've beaten the crap out of the douchebag who tried to sell her._

  
_She stuck to the shadows with her finger wrapped around the trigger, watching as Cole took down Joshuas two men with ease from where he stood on the opposite side of the street, wiping their blood onto a clean cloth and tossing it in the alley. She had cloned Burns phone but had not though to look into their conversation because before she could register the outcome, Chrysler had fired a bullet into Joshuas head, but not before he fired in sync and managed to pierce Burns stomach. "Is she dead, Shaw?"_

  
_Sameen was starstruck. She had never been distracted when working a number, but she had been so interested in seeing the CIA agents capabilities that she hadn't taken out Joshua in time and he had killed Mckenna. "Yeah, she's dead. Do we go get Chrysler?" She murmured softly, tucking her hair behind her ears before securing her gun in the waistband of her jeans. "Cole-"_

_"We all get distracted, Sameen. Humans are not always failures, but we do fail. You just have to learn from your mistakes." Cole peered up the street and frowned when he saw Delaney kneel down and pull her friends corpse into her arms, rounding the building and disappearing from sight. "We failed this one. She's on her own now."_

Sameen Shaw made it a point from then on to never fail on saving/taking out their numbers from Control. But when the number she had assumed dead comes back into her life beside a man in a suit? That's when the questions begin.  
  
===========  
"So our newest Person of Interest is a woman who happens to work for the same entity we do?"  
  
Delaney stood in the corner of the Library as she watched Finch shift in his chair, his eyes scanning the file of their newest number on his computer. A tan skinned woman with eyes and hair similar to hers was staring back at her, her sharp features vacant of any expression. "She's very deadly and dangerous to both you and Mr. Reese, despite your extensive training as of recently."  
  
She and John had decided to track Sameen Shaw down through means of trailing her through Manhattan. They separated on the main street but stayed close enough to one another that if a threat rose, they could offer assistance. "John?" Delaney mused, leaning against the coffee shop to stare at Sameen across the street. "She's just standing there and now I'm bored. Tell me a story?"  
  
"Why don't you try to win her over with your super sarcastic personality?" John replied, his eyes focusing on their number as she shook her head and disappeared down the road in a large white van. "We've got to follow the van, Delaney. C'mon."  
It was several hours later when the two of them emerged outside an abandoned building where they had tracked down Shaw and her partner. Hopping off of her bike, Delaney removed her helmet and tightened the womens bulletproof vest underneath her leather jacket, securing her handgun in the waistband of her jeans. "I'll wait out here." She murmured to John through the commlink as he vanished around the corner and out of sight. "Do me a favor and try not to get killed, would you?"  
  
"I'll do my best Juliet!"  
  
Delaney leaned against the chainlink fence outside the building, flicking the safety off on her weapon as she patiently waited for their number to emerge. She thought back to the last time she had heard the name Sameen Shaw, when she and Mckenna had been in London trying to take down a number that had ended in tragedy. They both should have been dead that night, but there were two hidden figures lurking in the shadows that had saved her life.  
  
" _Do you see the girl inconspicuously staring at us from further down the bar?" Mckenna murmured, sipping her martini as Delaney glanced through the corner of her eye at the woman she spoke of. "She's one of us. Government official here for a number. Don't know if it's ours... But she's one of us. Sameen Shaw, apparently."_  
  
"Shaw, my name is John." She snickered as Johns voice came through the commlink, his attempt at a surrender against the assassin who had just watched her partner get brutally murdered in front of her. "I'm here to help you."  
  
Her heart nearly stopped when several gunshots rang out, and two people flew from the third story window into the closest dumpster. "John, I swear if you got killed, I'm going to dance on your grave." Delaney growled, her face filled with unbridled rage as Sameen appeared up the sidewalk, her eyes wild and hand wrapped around her handgun. "Remember me, Shaw?"  
  
Sameen Shaw stopped in her tracks as a ghost appeared in the shadows, her brunette hair tied back in a long ponytail and her eyes shooting daggers at her own, her hand wrapped around the gun procured safely beneath her bulletproof vest. Even in the darkness, she could not pull off the mock terror that Delaney so clearly wanted to see "Am I supposed to be scared?" Shaw spat, quirking an eyebrow as she lifted her gun to her eye. "Cause emotions don't really work for me."  
  
"Well, you and I aren't really friends anyways." Delaney snapped, ducking to the right as Shaw fired her weapon, aiming for her right shoulder. "Your aim needs work. Watch out for your friend up the block! He's sporting a good sized wound to his once pretty face. Shame he's going to die tonight!"  


John emerged from the building covered in blood and panting by the time Shaw had once again disappeared, leaving her commanding officers corpse lying in the darkness. "You-You couldn't have come help me?" He retorted, stretching his sore muscles as Delaney lifted her head, revealing the cigarette perched between her dried lips. "Since when do you smoke? You hate the smell of nicotine!"  
  
"Helps me to clear my head. I only do it every so often." He tilted his head at the softness of her voice, his eyes following her tense body language as Delaney slid her helmet into place and secured the strap beneath her chin. "I know her, John. She was there the night Mckenna was killed. And if I'm correct, she and her partner work for the government as agents of the Machine."  
  
"What's your point?"  
  
He then saw a new emotion rise into her eyes that he was sure he would never see again; vengeance. "She's the reason my best friend is dead. I wouldn't exactly call the two of us _friends._ "  
***  
  
John quietly entered the address Finch had provided him with, peering over his shoulder to see if Delaney had followed. After being forced to relive the worst night of her life, Delaney had thrown out much resistance to helping Sameen Shaw. She wore a scowl on her face as she stepped around John, her gun raised high as her amber eyes scanned the perimeter. "Just because I'm here with you doesn't mean I'm on your side. I still think you're wrong." Delaney growled, firing a bullet into the government agent that had entered the hotel room they had tracked Sameen to. "I hate her."  
  
"I didn't think you hated anyone." He murmured lowly, his lips inches away from her ear as the two of them stepped around the corner to reveal themselves to Shaw. "Don't get yourself shot Del. I'm pretty sure you're not that stupid."  
  
Sameen lifted her head as John and Delaney appeared in front of her, guns raised towards the ceiling. "You know I have enough self control to keep my mouth shut almost all the time, but if you even look at me sideways, I will shoot you in the head before you can even say my name sweetly." Venom dripped from her words as she lowered her weapon and tucked it back into her pants, shuffling past the tied up woman to gaze out the window. "By the way _Sam,_ there's a needle filled with drugs stuck in your shoulder. Better let John take it out, cause if I do, I'll stab you in the eye."  
  
" _Delaney."_  
  
She feigned mock hurt and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm trying to make small talk, _John._ Best I can say to the woman who happened to be there on the worst night of my life." Shaw slowly swiveled her chain, tilting her chin up to look at the woman glowering over her. Despite her sociopath tendencies, she had seen that look on many faces of the people she worked with. It was hatred, grief, doubt.  
  
"Look, let me inform you of something off the bat." Shaw spoke. She swallowed the lump in her throat and continued. "I may have been there the night your friend died, but she couldn't have been saved. It was always going to be you or her. Jumping in front of you, taking that bullet? Her choice and her choice alone. I couldn't have saved her from herself. So if you want to hate me for finishing the job you two opted out of your mission, fine. I'll grow on you eventually."  
  
  
"I seriously, seriously doubt it."  
  
Shaw smirked and turned back towards Reese, who was keeping a remarkably stoic expression. "I like your woman John. She's got more guts then just about any of the women I have ever met. I admire her bluntness."   
  
"I've got a friend who wants to talk to you."  
  
"And why should I talk to your friend?"  
  
Delaney snorted and unsheathed her pocket knife to cut through the zipties around her wrists. "C'mon, it's not like you have somewhere better to be."  
  
***  
  
John kept a tight grip on Delaney's forearm as he navigated Shaw towards Harold, who was patiently waiting in front of a large panel of floor to ceiling windows. The two ex-CIA agents stayed in the shadows as their newest Person Of Interest walked away from them, thousands of questions racing through her head. "I don't know how to trust someone that literally has no emotions, John." Delaney whispered, running her thumb over the top of his head. "I'm not like you. You have more compassion in your pinky finger then most people do in their whole bodies."  
  
He was thankful for the advantage of darkness as John cupped her jaw in his hands, his eyes staring deeply into hers. "You are one of the most compassionate people I've ever met." He whispered, his thumb trailing over the outline of her lips as she listened intently to his words. His words of affirmation was what kept her going, kept her fighting. "That's where we differ. I'm born to take orders, take out a target. You weren't skilled in that. You know what yours is? _Saving lives._ " He nodded his head towards Shaw, who seemed to be stuck between anger and confusion as Harold explained the concept of the Machine in very subtle context. "I think we are here, in this job, to save lives like hers. Don't you want to keep up the legacy we're building?"  
  
Delaney took a deep breath and watched as Shaw shook her head, tucking her hands in her pockets and taking long strides towards the double doors where the two of them stood. Their eyes met briefly- exchanging a silent message of courteous thanks before she disappeared out the door.  
  
"I want nothing more then to go home and take a hot bath." She whispered seductively. "If you want to join me, it's quite alright."  
  
Finch turned his head and smiled as John nuzzled his face in the skin of her neck, making a shrill laugh escape her lips and a grin spread across her face. He could see the happiness in the two of them and feared that in the distant future, inevitable events would tear them apart.


	31. Us And Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you want to know how I knew? How I knew I was alive again? Because every time I kept looking at you, at your eyes, I kept breathing. I haven't been able to properly breathe since the last day I saw you in that hangar. And now that we're never apart, I want nothing more then to remain never apart. Stay with me forever. I can't promise you that it'll be good, or happy, but I can promise you that it will be worth it.   
> \- John Reese

Delaney leaned back against the passenger seat of Johns car, the radio tuned into the NYPD frequency as they both anxiously awaited news of their next number. There was a constant clock running against Finch on his computer, set to hit zero in the next twenty hours. None of them knew what happened when the clock ran out, and Delaney wasn't particularly keen on finding out the results.  
  
The city flooded past her window at the speed of light as Johns fingers laced with her own, tracing circles on the top of her hand. It wasn't normally for her to be so anxious, but there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept repeating that Root was somehow involved in all of this, and she was making an imminent return sometime soon, before the clock ran out.  
  
"You in the mood to go bust a NYPD case? It requires looking super sexy in shadows, which happens to be your specialty." He murmured, his grin widening when he heard her laughter for the first time in days. "That's my girl." John put the car into drive and took off down the trafficked New York highway, parking in the shadows behind an alley where Carter was rumored to be working on a homicide. "Joss is here."  
  
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" She replied sarcastically, releasing her hair from its ponytail and pushing it over her shoulders which allowed it to frame her face. Joss hurried up the street after muttering something about looking for witnesses on the block, turning into the alley to meet two of her closest friends. "Hey Carter. Are you doing okay?"  
  
"Del?" Joss breathed out in relief. Despite their professional friendship, it had been a while since the last time they'd seen each other and much to her shock, Carter was happy to see her. "How do I look? I'm certainly not happy." Delaney huffed and rocked on the balls of her feet, the gun in her waistband suddenly pressing weight into the small of her back as John began asking persistent questions about Cal Beecher and HR. "This is my eighth homicide in two weeks, you two. Care to explain what's changed?"  
  
Delaney stepped into the light beside John and inhaled deeply. "What can we do to help?" She replied. "We don't know what's changed, Carter. Something is wrong with our... boss." Carter rose an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the couple before focusing on the matter at hand. Three of Elias' men were dead. "Finch is working on it."  
  
"The Russians are worse then Elias. More power, fewer rules. We need to get on our game for this one."  
  
Joss disappeared around the corner as they made their way back down the alley, climbing back into the car and making way towards the loft for the evening. "Hey, look at me Delaney." John said softly, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. She turned her head and gazed at his features- from the sharpness of his cheek bones all the way down to the gentle jut of his lips. "You don't have anything to be afraid of. And neither do I. This is not something we can lose."  
  
"Decima is more powerful then us, John." She replied, shutting the car door and looping her arm through his. "We may have a God on our side, but even Gods can be brought to their knees by other gods. We just haven't met the other one yet."  
  
***  
 _Root paced the office of her boss', her cellphone pressed against her ear as she waited for her phone call to connect to Finch. Her heartbeat had not slowed down since she had realized the real distress the Machine was in; blaming it on its creator and its lack of ability to fight back. "I have nothing to say to you, Miss Groves." Harold replied matter-of-factly. Root smirked and sighed before continuing.  
  
"What about your protectors?" She mused. "May I be blunt for a moment, Harold? John is capable at certain things but his skills aren't going to cut it this time. Miss Chrysler, however.. If she's willing to not kill me, her skills could prove quite useful. I hear her hacking has gone through the roof since we last spoke."  
  
"I sincerely doubt that Delaney will be willing to work with you."  
  
"Have you even found Ernest Thornhill yet?"  
  
Finch froze in his spot, his eyes focused on the doorway as his brain struggled to process Roots words. "What do you know about Thornhill?"  
  
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours." Root mused lightly, twirling a strand of oak colored hair behind her ear. "Talk to you real soon, Harold." _  
  
Delaney fumed as she disconnected the comm links, repeating Roots words to Harold through their phone call as she stormed out of the Library and down to her motorcycle. Angrily fastening on her helmet, she revved the engine and sped off down the road towards where John had mentioned he was heading, to the last spot Finch had tracked Thornhill in the city. "I'm going to kill Root the next time I see her, John." She snapped, her eyes narrowing as she pulled up next to his motorcycle on the vacant stretch of road. "We can't let her touch Finch again."  
  
"I don't plan on it."  
  
They waited for a moment to spy Thornhills car, and Delaney whipped around to face a stranger navigating a drone as John sprinted in the direction of the incoming car. "He's going to blow up the car, John!" She exclaimed, firing multiple shots into the SUV and the mans kneecaps before whipping around to face John, who came up empty on Thornhills whereabouts. "If he's not in the car-"  
  
"Then we've got ourselves a ghost."  
  
***  
  
She kept wondering why the Machine had made a person, an identity, to defend itself. Why Finch had even subdued its ability to fight. Harold Finch had successfully created the very first AI and had limited its abilities down to almost nothing. The only thing it was capable of was warning them of impending crimes to be committed. A small part of her wondered if Root was actually thinking logically when it came to Finch's creation.  
  
Why did they not allow it to exceed its capabilities?  
  
"I've got an address for the two of you to look into." Finch replied. "Go to the apartment under Thornhills name and find out what the people who are working for the man who doesn't exist know." John extended a hand and pulled Delaney to her feet, her chest brushing against his own in one swift movement. Her heart stalled in her chest as John cupped her face and kissed her sweetly, if only for a moment, before they were on their way again.  
  
The ride to Thornhills apartment was silent as they entered the building on the water, finding themselves alone and once again with no answers. Delaney's amber eyes scanned the open expanse in front of her before she whipped around at the slightest sound of creaking, the butt of her gun nearly colliding with Sameen Shaws cheek. "I was wrong." Shaw breathed, eyes wide with wonder as Delaney lowered her hand. "Your reflexes _are_ fast."  
  
"What are you doing here Shaw?"  
  
"Protecting the program that tried to kill me." Shaw placed her gun back into her waistband before lifting her face to meet Johns intense stare several feet away from her. "I'm tracking the lead of the woman Harold gave me. She was looking for a guy named Thornhill."  
  
John and Delaney both snorted under their breath in unison. "Now that is ironic. We just so happen to be looking for a guy named Thornhill too."  
  
***  
  
 _I want to control the Machine that ruined my life.  
I want to keep Harold and John safe.  
I want to take Samantha Groves life. _  
  
"Sameen is so going to get a mouthful when we get out of here." Delaney muttered dejectedly, resting her head against the cool metal of the interrogation table inside the 8th precinct. "Have I mentioned how much I hate her, John? Because I'm so serious. I would love to beat her into a pulp. Root too. That would make my freaking _year._ "  
  
John snickered softly as Shaw came back into the box, dressed in much more casual clothing with her hair spread out over her shoulders, her neck concealed by a thin white scarf. "I love how much her hate for me fuels her. It's charming." Sameen remarked, smirking as Delaney leaned forward, glaring daggers into her forehead. "You two want to get out of here?"  
  
"I have to warn Harold about Root."  
  
"I don't think Harold wants to be found by either of you."  
  
Shaw slid forward her cellphone, playing back a dispatch call that had been made before they had even entered Thornhills apartment.  
  
_"911, what's your emergency?"  
  
"Yes, I would like to report a break in of Ernest Thornhills apartment by a dangerous man and woman." _  
  
Delaney leaned against the back of her chair and closed her eyes as she pressed her thumb and index finger against the bridge of her nose. She had always been more reluctant under pressure, but the fact that Finch had willingly gone alongside Root when they were supposed to be protecting the Machine fueled her with more rage instead of adrenaline. "Root could've forced him to make that call." John replied.  
  
"Either way, these two have history so the odds are that she's with him. Can you track him?" John raised an eyebrow with a look of disbelief that she did not believe him. "How? Did you seriously put a bug on your friend?" He shrunk backwards at the intense slap on his arm, followed by a pair of amber eyes now directly in front of his.  
  
"Did you bug me too, you idiot? I can't believe you haven't told me this before!" Delaney shrieked, her jaw dropped to the ground. John suppressed a smirk as he cleared his throat, adjusting the open collar of his dress shirt as the room began to grow stuffier and the air more stale.  
  
"I've lost people before. So when I care about someone, I plant a tracking device on them."  
  
Delaney huffed and leaned against the wall, examining all areas of clothing before her eyes narrowed on John, lifting her hand to gaze at her bracelet and ring that never left her right finger and wrist. "Let me guess, my bracelet?" John nodded in confirmation as Shaw continued to strip down her disguise, revealing the two guns she'd hidden from the police. "I can't believe I'm dating you."  
  
"You love it."  
  
"John, just _shut up._ "


	32. Irreparable

"Sameen Shaw, expert smoker. That was the most impressive thing I've seen all day."  
  
"You're telling me that your boyfriend doesn't do impressive things all the time?" Shaw clucked, revving the engine on the car she had insisted on driving. They had finally found a lead on Finch and Root, who had both broken into Thornhill Industries not ten minutes before. Or to put it simply, they were in the heart of the Machine itself. "You gotta step your game up, John. Your girlfriend's getting kind of bored."  
  
They entered the building shortly after, Delaney and Shaw in front while John covered the rear as they entered the heart of the Machine to find a short, thin man hunched over a printer that was continuing to print off core memories. "You must be wondering who I am." He called out, tilting his head as he stared at the 3 ex government agents with guns pointed at his face. Delaney tilted her head as he turned to face them, his blue eyes slowly shifting between her and John with almost an eagerness lurking in them.  
  
"I think you work for Decima. And I think you're the person behind all of this."  
  
The mystery man simply clucked his tongue. "Now what gives you that impression, Mr. Reese?" He chided, shuffling his feet against the carpet. John felt his hand subconsciously drift forwards, gripping Delaney's hip protectively as the mans eyes shifted to her. "Oh, I know all about you John. And you, Miss Chrysler. Or do you prefer Del?"  
  
Delaney felt her stomach turn as she shifted her weight, her weapon now centered on the middle of the mans forehead. "You don't have the right to call me anything." She simply replied, fearful that her mouth would give away too much if she continued speaking.  
  
"Manners, manners! That's no way to speak to someone you don't know. But, I do know you as well, Miss Shaw. Last I heard, you had left the project Northern Lights! What excuse do you have for that?"  
  
Shaw swallowed the irritation lurking in her voice before slowly taking a step closer to Delaney, whos gaze was still fixated on the man who had yet to reveal his name. "Right now all I need is an excuse to put this bullet between your eyes." She snapped.  
  
"I've got one. How about the fact that your company strapped a bomb to my chest, and the bomb expert here had to defuse it in less then two minutes. You used me to plant a virus, which you're going to tell me how to stop."  
  
Delaney continued to study the man as he spoke to John and Sameen, her eyes scanning over all of the wrinkles and cracks etched into his skin, to the coldness of his blue eyes, down to the very threads of the expensive suit that adorned his body. From the way he spoke down to his mannerisms, she had analyzed that he had once been apart of a government force in his earlier years. His rising rank had brought him to Decima years later, where he lived as a rich man who simply wanted more answers to the complexity of Artificial Intelligence then he was receiving.  
  
He was cold. He was calculating, and he was very _very_ good at manipulating people into giving him exactly what they wanted.  
  
The following words that came from his mouth was enough to draw her out of her trance and infuse her blood with a newfound anger and need to take it out. "The same laptop that you and Kara Stanton were sent to retrieve from Ordos, China." He mused, the hint of a smirk appearing on his lips. But if you or your pretty little sidekick shoot me, Mr. Reese, you'll never learn the name of the man responsible for everything that happened there!"  
  
Swallowing the lump building in her throat, Delaney lifted her head and spoke. "And who is this man exactly?"  
  
"I was wondering when you were going to speak again, _puppet._ " He mused. "The man responsible, the man who is to blame for all of this. That mans name is Harold Finch." Johns grip tightened on her waist as the color seemingly left her skin, her aim becoming slightly shakier with his confession. "Ah yes, I can see I struck a nerve with the puppet. I haven't yet had the pleasure to meet him. I can't put a face to the name! Which makes your Mr. Finch very interesting indeed. Please tell him I look forward to making his acquaintance."  
  
Gunfire began to blaze as multiple Decima agents sprung from the corners of the room. Mind back in gear, Delaney split away from Shaw and fired multiple shots into kneecaps so fast her vision began to blur. Had it not been for the sight of John walking simultaneously with her from across the room, she would've charged the man who had spewed lies and deceit and shot him dead.  
  
"I guess your friend Harold has some explaining to do." Shaw remarked, leading them out of the building and back down to their getaway car. Delaney chewed on the dried flesh of her bottom lip as she watched John walk in front of her, his shoulders visibly tense and his eyes darkened as he struggled to process the information he'd received.  
  
Knowing better then to speak, she took his hand in her own and lightly pressed her lips against his knuckles, softening his gaze which snapped down to her as she pulled away and climbed into the back seat of the car. He followed suit as Shaw sped off towards their next destination, the New York Public Library. Delaney kept her eyes focused on the handguns in her lap, checking beneath the seats for her spare magazines in a rush of multiple emotions that were beginning to cloud her thinking.  
  
John gripped her forearm with his hand, drawing her eyes up to meet his own. Even though she hadn't been there for Ordos, he had still revealed the heart wrenching details of what had occurred there with him and Kara. She had been the only one there for him for a number of years, and Mark Snow had forced her to take out the only man who was willing enough to work with her.  
  
 _I guess fate wins in the end.  
  
_"I love you, John." She whispered, scooting closer to his tense body and resting her other hand on his thigh. John visibly froze as she slowly rubbed circles on the fabric of his pants, her eyes never parting from his face. He parted his lips and breathed in and out deeply, repeating the mantra Kara had taught him so many years ago about turning his emotions off. "Harold has to have a reasonable explanation for all of this. We just have to keep a level head until we hear him out."  
  
She allowed John and Shaw to take point, her guns raised high in the air as the two of them expertly took out several Decima agents on the main floor of the building. Her keen eyesight turned her towards a telephone booth on the other side of the room, and a part of her mind began calling her to it. Delaney easily side stepped the other Decima agent in the room, who John disarmed almost immediately.  
  
"Thank you for the help." John replied sarcastically, quirking an eyebrow at both her and Shaw. "Both of you. Very appreciated."  
  
"You looked like you had it under control."  
  
John glanced down at the cell phone in his hand and furrowed his eyebrows while he watched at least half a dozen more Decima Agents pour into the building. "I hope you've got more rounds, you two. We're going to have a lot more company here shortly."  
  
Shaw smirked as Delaney reached into the side of her combat boot, pulling out another magazine before tossing it to the ex government assassin. "I'm gonna grow to like you, Chrysler. You're proving more and more useful by the minute." She remarked, reloading her weapon. Delaney snorted and opened her mouth to reply when the phone began to ring from behind her.  
  
 _And a future is born._


	33. God Mode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the day, all we ever want is another opportunity to be alive.

She hadn't meant to not answer the phone. Her mind was screaming, pleading with her to pick it up. The phone call held some inkling of an answer to all the questions that Harold had yet to answer. But for the first time since Zoe had picked her up in the bar after the worst day of her life, Delaney Chrysler chose rationality over impulsivity.

"I'm going to regret this later." She muttered, lifting her eyes to John who was waiting for her to answer the phone herself. "Shaw and I will keep watch. John, don't ask questions and answer the phone. It has to be you. It's always had to be you."

The two women turned in opposite directions of the large room, eyes peeled for intruders as John picked up the phone and pressed it against his ear. It was almost comical how well she worked together with Sameen after countlessly threatening to shoot her. "Sharp eye, Shaw. He's talking to your boss." She said calmly, inhaling deeply as John began to fire precise shots in the locations the Machine was feeding him. "Sorry, _our_ boss."

Delaney exhaled deeply as she and Shaw struggled to follow John, who continued glancing down at his phone as he tracked the whereabouts of their reclusive billionaire. "You want to fill me in on who you're talking to, John? Delaney? Our fairy god mother?"

John cursed under his breath and turned to face his long time colleague and best friend, who held her hands up in surrender. "Do not look at me like that, John Reese! I'm under oath!" He quirked an eyebrow, the corner of his lip turning upward as he waited for her to explain. "Fine. The group you got your intel from, Shaw? You called them Research. Your ex-boss called them Northern Lights."

"Your pal told me they don't exist."

She snorted lightly and shook her head, nearly colliding with John as he came to an abrupt stop. "Oh no, they exist. It just so happens to be an _it_ rather then a them. A... Machine, if you will."

"You can talk like the hacker I know you are, Delaney. You mean an AI, don't you?"

Delaney rose her eyebrows in disbelief and bent over at the waist, trying to contain her laughter. She had barely known Shaw for a month and already she was surprising her more and more with the time they spent together.

"Oh, she's better than I thought. You're right, Shaw. It's an AI, we call it The Machine. Harold created it, and I've learned to tune myself into it through my hacking skills. For Root, it just so happens to be her God." She had been so distracted with explaining the complexity of the Machine to Sameen that she had failed to notice John tailing their getaway car which would presumably get them closer to Finch. "Are we stealing things now?!"  
  
"You were a covert CIA assassin-"  
  
"For a _year._ "  
  
"And you don't like stealing things? How on Earth did you make it at all?" Shaw spoke, a tinge of annoyance in her voice as she followed on Johns heels. Delaney managed a smile and slid her fingers up her leather jacket to her neck, where a silver heart pendant laid tucked away beneath the hem of her white teeshirt.  
  
"I had people."  
  
***  
  
Much to their annoyance, The Machine had delivered a number and had insisted that they take out the threat, so John found himself driving to a secluded part of the city where members of The Brotherhood were planning to take out a business partner who had not fulfilled their part of the deal.  
  
"Delaney, stay in the car." John demanded, pulling out his handgun as Sameen began jogging towards the coordinates. "We'll be back in a minute." She barely had time to argue before John had slammed the door shut and disappeared into the shadows with Shaw. It had been a long time since she had been jealous of another woman, but she couldn't help but be jealous that John was growing more interested in working with Sameen.  
  
What did Shaw have that she didn't? An actual career with the Government? No fatal injuries that still affected her combat skills to this day? The ability to turn her emotions off when working a number?  
  
" _Your heart is the greatest part about you as a person, Delaney." McKenna murmured, gulping down her shot as she watched John laugh with several of his bunk mates on the opposite side of the bar. It was a frequently occupied place during the night and most of the time the stress was so high, they needed several drinks to make it to the morning. "That compassion, that heart for people will get you places some day."_  
  
A small smile graced her face as she inhaled deeply, tears welling at the back of her eyes as Delaney reminisced some of her most precious memories with the girl who had ultimately saved her life and helped morph her into the woman she had become.  
  
By the morning they had arrived back at the Library, and John was beginning to suspect he had done something wrong every time he went to speak and Delaney deliberately ignored him. "If we're going to be here, you need to tell me why. Let your tech guru do the work on the computers."  
  
"The Machine told me this is the place I'd find the answer. To where it's located." John replied, leaning over the back of the chair to the point where his lips were inches from the top of Delaneys head. She worked with next to no effort, her technique flawless as she entered the Machine through the back door, her eyes narrowed in on the computer screens as she blocked out every sound and distraction, including the proximity between her body and Johns. "She tends to do this."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"When she's working, she drowns out everything else. Helps her work better."  
  
Shaws dark eyes shifted to the woman in the seat, who was scanning multiple maps and old documents Finch had saved onto the computers months before she and John had begun working for him. "No offense John, but maybe Finch wants control of The Machine for himself."  
  
"If Finch had something to do with the virus, I'm sure he had his reasons. On the upside,'' His head turned towards the bulletin board, where he and Delaney and Finch had been piecing together Roots life since their very first encounter with Caroline Turing. "Hopefully The Machine won't have told Root where it is either."  
  
Delaney grinned smirked as Johns phone vibrated with the message _Ghost Alpha Kilo_ in bold across the screen. "Before you two continue," She spun around in the massive chair and crossed her legs at the ankles, her gaze focused on Sameen. "With all due respect, if anyone is going to shoot her, it's me. I've been waiting to do it since the day this woman kidnapped Harold. If _you_ want to shoot her, it can't kill her. She deserves a painful recovery."  
  
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. What's Ghost Alpha Kilo?"  
  
"A book."  
  
She watched with a longing gaze as John and Shaw disappeared around the corner, leaving her to the list she had managed to pull up. Finch had briefly described to her the differences and reasons for the Relevant versus Non Relevant list, but he had never fully trusted her enough to show her the list itself before he had deactivated the Non Relevant one.  
  
 _Nathan Ingram: non relevant_  
 _Jessica Arndt: Non Relevant_  
  
The rest of the faces she did not recognize, but seeing the face of Jessica for the first time in years after failing to protect her made Delaney so physically nauseous that she retched into the trash can, oblivious to the map now displayed on the screen in front of her. Three different locations had been circled, words scrawled in chicken scratch beneath them. "Son of a..." She murmured, wiping her mouth with her sleeve and inhaling deeply, desperate to distract herself from the thought of Jessica's corpse on the side of the road. " _John!_ "  
  
John and Shaw rushed back into the room with an identical map, pulling up a table beside her computer as she turned it towards them. "This isn't Finch's handwriting which means Ingram must've been looking for The Machine too, after they sold it to the government."  
  
"Nevada, Washington, Texas. He narrowed it down to three places. You know what they've got in common?"  
  
Her face filled with awe as Delaney slowly stood to her feet. "They're all secure field sights for nuclear fueled storage."  
  
"When Root was torturing me, she wanted to know about an engineer named Daniel Akino. Must've known something about the place the Machine was stored in."  
  
Johns face morphed to concern as he watched Delaneys face pale once again, her body visibly wincing as she lowered herself back down into the computer chair. "What did Root want to know?"  
  
"The man who hired him to be a part of Northern Lights."  
  
As they made a mutual decision on what to do next, John motioned for Shaw to head back downstairs, his attention now focused on the woman in front of him. "Are you alright?" He said quietly, kneeling down in front of her and carefully placing his hands on her knees. "You're pale and shaky." When he noticed her gaze was fixated on the ground, John swallowed the lump growing in his throat and rested his forehead against her chest, his hands sliding up to rest on her hips.  
  
It was the most intimate gesture he'd ever done.  
  
"I know you're mad at me for something. What it is, I'm not sure but it's rare for you to actually be mad at me about something. We're going to the park now. It's where the last living member of the group that took the Machine was last seen." She ran her fingers through his hair, lightly pressing her lips against the crown of his head. "Jessica was in those pictures, Del. She was in those pictures and Harold _knew-_ "  
  
"We can't be vulnerable right now, John. We just can't, not with Root and Harold still on the loose. I will not rest until my- _our_ reclusive billionaire is safe and Shaw and I have shot Root." Delaney snapped, allowing him to help her to her feet. ''This isn't the time for this. When we're over and have saved New York for the billionth time, then we can talk all you want."  
  
Her heart fluttered in her chest as John swiftly captured her lips in a domineering, hot kiss, pulling away seconds after she had attempted to deepen it. The pure shock of his possessiveness had made her knees weak, and John tried not to grin at the fact that Delaney had nearly collapsed in his embrace. "Oh, believe me. I plan on talking about everything when this is over."  
  
***  
  
(There is SO MUCH that happens in this episode. Skipping to the scene where John loses Finch is where I'm going. It'll make things so much easier.)  
  
Delaney grimaced as she and Shaw loomed over the body of the man they had been tracking, one Lawrence Streizand that had been a crucial part of the Northern Lights Project. She knew the moment that anger filled Shaws face that it had been her old employers to murder him in front of a crowd of civilians. "Your employers are idiots."  
  
"Is that who did this?" John nodded solemnly and continued down the sidewalk at an alarming pace, leaving Sameen staring at the briefcase that had been discarded when he fell. "You go with your boyfriend, Delaney. I'll catch up in a minute. The briefcase is going to prove useful."  
  
She nodded and slowly caught up with John, taking deep breaths thirty seconds apart to try and relieve the nausea still building up in her stomach. Sickness had never been an issue in the field for her until she had been forced to relive another failure. This one, her _Harold Finch,_ she would not fail him too.  
  
"Finch!!"  
  
Harold Finch whipped around at the familiar voices calling his name in sync, his eyes widening at the sight of Delaney and John sprinting down the road to attempt to catch up with him and Root. His blue eyes flickered between his best friends and Root before he jumped into the truck and slammed the door shut behind him.  
  
"Alright, enough. I know where it is. I'll take you to it."  
  
Delaney cursed as many words as she knew under her breath, causing Sameen to snicker as she turned around sharply on her heel, her pale skin now an angry red. "Remind me when we catch up with Harold to slap him for being so unbelievably stupid."  
  
***  
  
"This day has been hellish. Did you plan on driving the car off of a bridge? That was smart. I'll thank the Machine for it later."  
  
They had just arrived in Portland, Oregon and were now well on their way to the facility where The Machine was being kept hidden from the worlds prying eyes. Shaw had been adamant that she drive the rest of the way, which gave John the ability to catch some sleep before their biggest predicament came to light; Root and Finch. Her fingers weaved through his hair at a slow pace, cherishing the feeling of his head in her lap and her fingers touching his skin.  
  
It had taken John seconds to pass out from exhaustion, which was rare. He had more endurance then just about anyone she knew, but every human being needed sleep to survive. That was a given. Shaw had chosen to observe through the rear view mirror and couldn't help but find herself the slightest bit envious at the fact that she had John, and John had her. They had each other to get through every day.  
  
 _One day you'll find that person._  
  
When they were five minutes away from the facility, Delaney lightly shook John awake and smiled as his eyes fluttered open to meet her own. "We're here. Are you ready?" She murmured quietly, curling his fingers around his gun as he nodded and sat up at the waist, opening the car door and outstretching his hand for her to take. "Let's go."  
  
The navigation was relatively easy, and several minutes later Shaw stopped outside of the door at the end of the hall where they could all hear Roots voice on the edge of hysteria. "What are you waiting for?" She snapped under her breath. "We agreed to shoot her together. On my mark." They both raised their weapons in sync, aimed for her shoulder and arm. "Fire."  
  
Root collapsed at the sound of two in sync gunshots, causing Finch to turn around and gaze upon the intruders. Delaney stepped in first, her eyes avoiding his as she was followed by Shaw and lastly by John. "Harold, are you okay?" John said quietly, his gaze burning into Harolds head as he gazed around the enormous hangar until his eyes fell on Delaney, who was watching him with a look so furious it made his heart hurt. "Is this what you expected?"  
  
She had had enough.  
  
"I made a oath to myself that I would protect you." Delaney proclaimed, her knuckles white as her head shot up to stare at Harold. "That I would do my job, the one thing I adore more then anything else, which happened to be saving people. Now don't get me wrong, I _love_ working numbers, but you have way too many secrets and I don't know about John, but I'm tired of being kept in the dark. When we go back to New York," She stormed towards him, her face inches from his own. "You tell us the truth, or I'm looking for another job."  
  
Harold swallowed nervously as he slowly outstretched his hand, squeezing hers as lightly as he possibly could. "Okay." Finch said quietly. "I assume you already know what your questions are, so I'll tell you anything you want to know when we get back to New York. With your skills, I should make you an admin of the Machine."  
  
A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she nodded slowly. "I don't have to be an admin to keep doing what I love. I just don't want any more secrets or lies."  
  
"I can do that." Finch turned around to face John, releasing her hand as his tongue darted out to lick at his dried lips. "To answer your question, Mr Reese... It's what I hoped for."  
  
***  
  
Finch hesitantly wrapped his arm around Delaneys waist, carefully examining her symptoms as they watched John attempt to patch up Root, who had not spoken since the cruel truth had been revealed to her. "So, did you do this yourself?" John called out, standing to his feet after securing the bandages on both her arm and shoulder.  
  
"I couldn't have." He replied, gripping her hips as Finch lightly guided Delaney back into Johns arms. "I locked myself out. The Machine was designed to accept alterations in its programming only as a response to an attack. I knew sooner or later that someone would try to take it over."  
  
John turned his head to once again look at his partner, who was sweating despite the cool air circulating through the room. His eyes swept over her hunched over figure, her skin abnormally pale and gaunt as she swallowed thickly, her eyes focused on the door. "I'm worried about her." John remarked. "I'm not sure what's wrong, but she won't be able to stand for much longer. I think she's gotten sick."  
  
"Probably the flu or something along the lines of it." Shaw replied. "She threw up earlier this afternoon. Strong woman, I gotta tell you. I didn't expect her to follow us here."  
  
Gritting her teeth, Delaney slowly turned her head towards Shaw, who was watching with a slightly amused expression on her face. "You have low expectations of me, Sameen." She growled, running a hand through her hair as John supported her weight. "Change them. I'm more capable then you think I am."  
  
"I'll believe that when I see it."  
  
"Do you want me to pin you? I'm kind of trying to not pass out right now."  
  
Harold held up a hand as he stepped between the two women. "You two can work out your differences later, Chrysler and Shaw. I implanted a virus within the virus in hopes of that if I hadn't returned, you and Miss Chrysler would continue the work we had started. That's why I didn't tell either of you."  
  
"Awe, Harold gets smarter and smarter the longer I know him. I feel _blessed._ " Delaney mused, grinning widely despite the exhaustion coursing through her veins. She wouldn't give Shaw the higher moral ground by passing out in Johns arms now. The alarms let out one last shrill ring before shutting down completely, which put all of them back on their guard. "That's not right. Is it supposed to turn off?"  
  
"Miss Chrysler, you're in a state of delusion. Please, for all of us, lean against John and be quiet. We can't have you passing out in the middle of a fight."  
  
Three more men entered the room, lead by an older gentleman with sharp eyes and a keen interest in Shaw, who immediately straightened the second she saw him. "Shaw."  
  
"You should've killed me better, Hersh." She spat. Delaney inhaled deeply and leaned against John, her hand steady as she rose her gun in the air along with John and Shaw. She chose to focus on the smaller picture as opposed to the larger one, flashbacking to her earliest memories in order to keep herself awake. Those were what kept her going. The people who knew that one day, she would make it. That she would become more extraordinary then anyone else had imagined.  
  
 _Zoe Morgan.  
Harold Finch.  
McKenna Burns.  
Joss Carter.  
Lionel Fusco.  
John Reese. _  
  
Of the small list, John was her biggest fan, her cheerleader, her never ending line of support. She adored him as himself, the man who fought tooth and nail to protect those he loved and those who needed it most. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, her body falling limp just in time for John to catch her.  
  
The last thing she saw before the world went black was the blues of his eyes. Looking, concerned, in love, worried.  
  
***  
  
" _Doctor Tillman said at the clinic this morning that she's severely dehydrated and malnourished. How could I not have seen it?"  
  
"We are all doing our best, Mr. Reese. This kind of extensive work? Sometimes humans forget that we have to take care of ourselves." _  
  
A low groan escaped her lips as Delaney slowly allowed her eyes to open, taking in the ceiling of what she assumed was the bedroom inside the Library. She could vaguely hear the low beep of the heart monitor in the corner, her skin warmed by the blankets that had been used to cover her while she was sleeping. "J-John." She croaked, cursing at the dryness inside of her throat. "W-Water."  
  
John had been beside her bed since arriving back in New York, allowing Finch the night to catch up on sleep as he kept in contact with Megan Tillman, the only doctor in New York who would ever be able to take care of two vigilantes who were both assumed dead. She had informed him an hour earlier that Delaney was battling malnourishment and dehydration on top of what looked to be a stomach bug.  
  
He hadn't even noticed her weight loss or exhaustion over the past weeks.  
  
Smiling at the sight of her staring at him, John wrapped his hand around a small glass of water and tilted it backwards, allowing the cool liquid to trickle down her throat, relieving the hoarseness that had built up there. "Why did you not tell me you haven't been eating? You eat more than anyone I know, and you are still skinny." He said quietly. "We may be heroes, Del, but even heroes have to remember they have limitations."  
  
"I haven't even thought about it John." She replied softly, resting her hand on top of his own. "Right now, I want nothing more then you in my bed, the two of us separated from the world so I can get some decent sleep. I have to sit on all my questions I plan on asking Harold." John complied easily, removing his coat and shoes before slowly entering the small space on the right side of the bed, his fingers creeping underneath her teeshirt to spread against the flesh of her stomach. "I love you."  
  
That phrase was becoming a regular statement spoken from her.  
  
"I love you too. Goodnight Juliet."  
  
Satisfaction filled his face as the sedative once again took her into slumber, her head falling on his shoulder. Finch had specifically told him that he wanted to speak to him in the park, but he couldn't find it in him to leave a woman who cared so much more about others then herself enough to the point where she hadn't eaten because of it.  
  
Finch re-entered the room with coffee and his famous tea, sitting at her beside and handing the coffee to John. "Mr. Reese, I have a lot of explaining to do." He said quietly, careful not to wake his friend. "And an apology to issue. Three years ago, when I put the code out there for the Machine, I had no idea what path it would take. Or what unintended consequences it might have. I never intended to hurt anyone, but I accepted that someone might get hurt. I always worry that events I may have set in motion may have changed things for you."  
  
John glanced down at the woman in his arms, carefully formulating his next words as Finch waited for a response. "My life changed seven years ago inside an airport terminal, and then again four years ago in a airplane hangar when I didn't have the guts to speak my mind. You didn't have anything to do with that. You lost a friend. You did what you had to do." He froze as Delaney stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she rested her head on Johns chest, taking one long look at Finch before smiling drowsily.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
And then she had fallen asleep again.  
  
"Why is she thanking me? McKenna was in the irrelevant list. That was why she didn't get saved by Shaw. Shaw and Cole worked most of the relevant numbers, so for the two of them to get an irrelevant one that happened to be a new CIA agent was intriguing. I killed her best friend. Why is she thanking me?"  
  
"Closure. A release from pain. She lost someone too, you know. McKenna was her best friend besides me. Zoe found her strung out in a bar and took her in, helped make her into who she is now. This is the Delaney Chrysler I've always wanted to know." A sad smile spread across his face as he tangled his fingers in her oak colored hair. "The one I fell in love with."


	34. Lady Killer

It had been a number of weeks since they had ended the virus with The Machine, and Shaw had taken it upon herself to perfect Delaneys deteriorating hand to hand skill. Most of their sessions ended in lacerations and painful bruises, but she had seen significant response in her combat skills since. "Now, you care to explain to me why John called this Zoe Morgan and disappeared at 8 AM this morning? We're gonna have a number soon." Shaw commented, ducking beneath her right hook and gasping as Delaney caught her arm, flipping her onto her back and pinning her down with her knee.  
  
"He said something about shopping. Not sure for what, but I'm not intrusive. I trust Zoe enough with John." Delaney replied, smiling as she glanced up at the clock, which read 10 AM. Her eyes snapped down to John, who stood alone in the doorway with a smirk on his face as he clapped his hands. "Speak of the Devil-"  
  
"Took you a while to pin down Shaw, Del. You're getting better. Color me impressed." He called out, running a hand through his hair as the two women parted from one another and began to clean themselves up. "Finch has a new number for us and very specifically asked for you and I, a boat, in a lake. More details upstairs."  
  
His eyes roamed over her body as she discarded her sweat covered white teeshirt, leaving her pale skin exposed in a navy blue and silver sports bra. Shaw snickered quietly as John stared, unable to tear his eyes away from her toned figure. "Eyes up Soldier. Didn't you say we had a number?" She hissed, pushing past John with Delaney not far behind her, now wearing her signature leather jacket and her long brown hair just hitting past her shoulder blades. "You said something about getting these two lovebirds to a lake?"  
  
***  
  
"John, give me the freaking oars or so help me _God-_ "  
  
"I'm rowing this boat, and you can shut up about it."  
  
"That mouth is going to get you into some serious trouble, Mr. Reese."  
  
Harold huffed from inside The Library, smiling down at Bear who sat quietly at his feet while he watched Harold pin up the photo of their newest number. "Given your cover, I think it would be more appropriate for John to row, Delaney." He muttered, gripping the arm rests of his computer as Delaney leaned back and blew a piece of hair out of her face. "You are supposed to be on a date, after all. I'm sure you two don't get much of those anyways."  
  
Satisfied with winning, John snatched the oar from her grip as Harold gave them insight on their newest number, Ian Murphy. "Who is our Romeo? We could send Shaw out on a date." Delaney murmured, holding up the camera to snap photos of the boat directly behind John. ''God knows she needs it."  
  
"Behave, Miss Chrysler!" Finch snapped. "His name is Ian Murphy, he's a successful investor in a number of businesses. His businesses are doing quite well and he has a stellar credit report. Grew up quite destitute due to his parents death as a teenager, and a kindly uncle left him one hundred thousands dollars in return. I sent Miss Shaw out to his apartment in Soho."  
  
John groaned, which meant he was still stuck In the boat for a number of time until they were back on the mainland. "Which means _now_ it's my turn to row the boat, Pretty Boy. It's about time you let me do something for once." His eyes lifted to her defiant smirk as she began rowing backwards, leading them towards the mainland where they were about to split up to gather more intel. "Cat got your tongue, John?"  
  
The item in his coat pocket felt like a thousand pounds on his chest as he continued staring at her, unsure of what to say. "I'm going to kill you."  
  
A wide grin covered her face as they pulled the boat onto the mainland and dusted off their clothes, sending one last glance before the two of them split up. "That's more like it." She said quietly, ruffling her hair as Delaney set off down the block, tailing Ian Murphy from the shadows. Her brow furrowed as he stepped inside a shop and emerged after nearly an entire bottle of water wearing a different outfit, hiding his face from the crowd as he set off again. "Uh, Finch? I think I've got something. Romeo here is acting a bit.... strange."  
  
"Well, I sure hope so! I've lost our phone connection to him!"  
  
Delaney pursed her lips and quietly began following him through the park, her phone in her hands as she studied his new appearance. "He's completely changed his appearance from blue blood to hipster. I'm not sure what his intentions are but I am positive it's nothing good."  
  
His path took her into a bar, where she sat down in the most inconspicuous corner and ordered a martini, watching Ian through the corner of her eye with another woman on the opposite bar. "Delaney, have you gathered any new information about Murphy?" Her amber eyes followed his muscular figure as her lips curled around her glass.  
  
"He's a ladies man, that's for sure. New image, new girl. He's the first chameleon I've seen in a long time. Organized, efficient, sociopathic." A slightly amused smile spread across her face as she recognized the garble of Shaws cursing through the comm link. "Just like you, Shaw! Nice of you to join our excursion!"  
  
Sameen remained silent which gave Harold the opportunity to speak next. "It seems that Mr. Murphy meets most of his dates online through applications like Tinder and Angler. Members put up a profile and then sign in at a given location."  
  
"Finch, he's keeping records of them."  
  
Delaney shivered in her seat and motioned to the bartender for another dry martini. "Now that is one high level stalker."  
  
"Where is he getting the information from?"  
  
"From your typical stalker websites. Anything that promises a decent background check. It's like he's hunting them."  
  
"Why don't we just take him out now?" Shaw remarked. "She is literally less then two hundred feet away from the guy. Could do it in one easy swipe. No mess, no problem!"  
  
"I wouldn't say he's not a killer yet Finch." She breathed a sigh of relief as John finally spoke, his voice oddly comforting as she casually sipped her drink and basked in sunlight. "I'm here at the apartment with Shaw, and he's got a missing persons flyer for a woman named Jenna Lakritz. And there's a printed out article of a woman who died last week, says it was a car accident."  
  
"Anyone on this link knows as well as I do that a car accident is good way to cover up a homicide." She downed her drink and turned away from the bar, tilting her head towards her shoulder. "Should we all come back to the Library to keep talking about this?"  
  
"We're right behind you."  
  
Delaney inhaled the crisp air and stuffed her hands in her pockets, casually strolling through the crowds and down the side walk. Her malnourishment and dehydration had passed more then two weeks ago, and it was the first time in months that she truly felt like herself. Shaw had helped train her, John lived with her and loved her, and Harold had given her a job. They were her family, and she knew that this family would always understand her, always believe In her no matter the situation.  
  
But she couldn't help the feeling that something bad was coming. Something that none of them knew about yet, and it set her on edge to think that one of them could be taken away from her in a fraction of a second. Just like that.  
  
That would be the day her world ended.  
  
***  
  
Working numbers was exhausting. Working numbers with someone like Sameen Shaw who constantly kept her on her toes not only made her more stealth like, but also made her normally light mood much more serious. "What about the other woman, the one who died? What have we leaned about Dana Wellington?"  
  
Finch stood to his feet, clutching the picture in his hand as he pinned it on the board beside Ians photo. "Auction house owner and philanthropist." He remarked. Delaney leaned over the desk, her peripheral vision locked on the rhythmic pulse of John's steady breathing. "I can't seem to find something to connect our Miss Wellington to Mr. Murphy other then they attended the same school."  
  
Three pairs of eyes shifted over to Bear, who was tearing into the giant bone between his paws and adorned with a large black collar covered in spikes. "Mr. Reese, you didn't happen to acquire a new collar, or the giant cow femur that Bear is eating when you went on your _shopping_ excursion this morning?"  
  
John grit his teeth, glancing at his confused partner through the corner of his eye. "I was a bit busy shopping this morning, Finch." He snapped in annoyance. "Seems like Bear may have a stalker of his own. As for our Mr. Murphy, he frequents a club called Blur. I cross checked the names of the files you discovered against their profiles on the Angler application. All of them have checked there at least once."  
  
Delaney rose an eyebrow, partially out of alarm and amusement as John turned towards her with a wide grin on his face. "Oh no." She muttered. "When you look at me like that it normally means you have an idea that needs a womans touch. You want to use us as bait?"  
  
"We can't call the cops yet because we don't have enough proof, _and_ you need some practice for blending in in a crowd of civilians. Even though you've nearly perfected it." He leaned in and gripped her hip, his lips brushing her upper ear and sending a shiver down her spine. "Do you still have that red dress?"  
  
***  
  
"Well, not bad!"  
  
Joss Carter stood inside their safehouse, dressed in her most eye drawing dress she'd found tucked away in the bottom of her bedroom closet. She had never done a recon job like this one, but after all of her recent work with HR and hearing that Delaney was good in crowds of civilians, she had been contemplating asking her to help with their takedown. "Considering the last time I saw you, you were in a body bag."  
  
"I've been in worse places." Sameen muttered dejectedly, grimacing as she adjusted her skin tight dress. Johns piercing eyes snapped upward when the door opened and his favorite pair of women stepped through. Delaney wore a deep red dress that exposed most of her upper shoulders and neck, her brown hair in loose curls that cascaded just past her shoulder blades. ( **This is the dress that Louisa wears in Me Before You.)** He felt himself shiver when she met his gaze and winked, her tongue darting out to lick at her scarlet lips. "Good Lord John, _look up._ "  
  
"It's been a _long_ time since I've seen her wear that dress. Always been a looker." Her eyes flickered between Joss and Sameen before landing on Finch, who could not seem to contain the relieved smile that spread across his face. "This is where the party is then!"  
  
"Miss Morgan, this is Miss Shaw. And you already know Delaney and Detective Carter."  
  
Delaney stood beside Zoe, feeling comfortable in her own skin as the four of them keenly listened to Harolds thorough description of how they were to approach their number once approaching the club. Her breathing deepened as Shaw and Joss marveled at each others weapons, her own clutch feeling significantly heavier with the weight of her weapon. She never left home without it anymore. "Now that everyone is sufficiently well armed, I've taken the liberty of creating profiles for you on Angler. So if you could download this application onto your phones for when you arrive at the Club, it'd be appreciated."  
  
Zoe lightly nudged her closest friend, motioning towards John who was fidgeting in his suit jacket, his hands constantly brushing over the breast pocket. "He's definitely nervous about something." She whispered, smirking as Delaney snickered quietly to herself while scanning her Angler profile. _Weapons trainer. Typical. "_ He's very protective of you. This has to drive him nuts."  
  
The longer she thought about it, the more she realized that Zoe was right. John had been protective of her since the start, always keeping her out of harms way in order to not lose someone else like he had lost Jessica. Forcing her to stay in the car, asking her to tail him and Shaw when they were trekking through a building, it was all for her own safety.  
  
As the women fled the room, she turned around to face John, who was watching her intently as he waited for her move. "I love you." She muttered, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. "I love you _so much,_ but you can't protect me from everything in this world."  
  
"I can surely try to do my best." He whispered in response, his lips brushing against her forehead as he forced a smile. "I'm not losing you like I lost Jessica."  
  
***  
  
A new, vibrant energy filled her lungs for the first time in years as she followed Zoe into the club, alert and aware of all the eyes on the four of them as they spread out in a booth and ordered their drinks. "Tonight it's me and hard liquor, ladies." Delaney remarked, leaning against Zoe as she downed her first shot of tequila. "Okay, that was a lie but I really do plan on unwinding. Too much tension in this job."  
  
Zoe snorted and sighed in response. "That's the understatement of the century."  
  
"So where's our target?"  
  
Delaney leaned against the cool leather of the booth and spread her arms out against the material. "Manager says he doesn't show up until midnight, Shaw." The two women on the ends rose an eyebrow as a waiter brought over several glasses of what looked to be champagne, distributing them between the four before disappearing into the crowd.  
  
"Then what are we doing here so early?" Joss replied.  
  
"I was not about to let those guys send us off as killer bait without getting something in return. Besides," Her eyes widened as Delaney slammed the now empty glass on the table, a wry smile spreading across her face. "This one needs to unwind, and alcohol doesn't agree with her. Never did."  
  
Joss and Shaw weren't aware of her alcohol abuse back in Iran and Afghanistan, and the countless hours she'd spent downing hard tequila and vodka on base with McKenna and John. It was a part of her she never wanted to remember, so she had begun drinking in a moderation since. "I like your style, Morgan." Shaw said. "And Delaney does need to unwind. Unwinding is good."  
  
"Delaney-'' Joss began, drawing the brunettes attention away from her cellphone as she checked in under her profile, sliding her phone back into her clutch. "When we have time, I need to talk to you about something. Something important." She nodded in understanding, sighing deeply as Zoe leaned over her shoulder.  
  
"Joss, you need to relax. Fusco is upstairs, John will kill anyone who even looks at his girl, and Shaw will shoot anyone who looks at her sideways. I used to bring her here on occasion after she got out of the CIA to reacquaint her with people. She used to be terrified of them." Zoe stood to her feet, outstretching her hand to her oldest friend who grinned as she took it. "She's ready to unwind. Let's go have fun!"  
  
"I second that!"

Standing in front of Zoe and behind Shaw, Delaney slowly began to sway her hips back and forth, her mind on high alert and well guarded as she fell into the music. The music distracted most of her memories that were threatening to break into her mind, until Fusco blurted into their comm links that Murphy had entered the club.  
  
She straightened her shoulders, sitting at a bar stool with her ankles crossed as Ian side glanced at her before making his way past Shaw, sitting down beside Joss at the booth where she had sat down. Their words were incomprehensible, but she assumed that Ian had wormed his way into Joss' high guard and asked her to dinner.  
  
" _Hey Delaney, no one can hear us on this comm. Are you alright?_ "  
  
Her eyes scanned the crowd of people as Joss left the club, and Zoe met her eyes, motioning her over. "When this number is over, I'm demanding a vacation day. Or six." John ducked his head to his chest and smiled softly, pulling the small velvet box out of his suit pocket and glancing down at the engagement ring secured inside. "It's been a while since I've drank and danced the night away. Feels good."  
  
_"Believe me. I've got a plan to get you your vacation days."_  
  
***

Shaw repositioned the sniper rifle beneath her shoulder, side glancing at John who stood quietly beside her. They had been on the roof for over an hour keeping an eye on Carter and Ian, who seemed much less dangerous than anyone had originally thought.   
  
"What's he doing?" She spoke urgently, finger curled around the trigger as she watched Ian open his refrigerator. "Should I shoot him?"   
  
" _Not yet.''_  
  
John smiled slightly and leaned against the wall in front of him. Delaney had opted to remain home for the night to work on her hand to hand training with the punching bag and Zoe as her support. Ever since he'd pulled her out of the club last night, she'd been having sneaking suspicions about his upcoming proposal. "Do you two have a thing on the side of you and Chrysler or something? It's not like I haven't noticed the engagement ring in your coat jacket."  
"You know as well as I do we're just friends."  
  
"Well," Shaw remarked. "Your just friend is doing her job. She gets this guy to trust her, maybe he makes a move.. And I can finally shoot him."  
  
While she attempted to peruse small talk with Ian, Joss couldn't keep her mind off of the impending conversation she was planning to have with Delaney once they had finished this number. She knew that the former Marine and CIA Agent was one of those people willing to take revenge on the people who deserved it even if it meant losing her life in the process. To Delaney Chrysler, revenge was best served hot.  
  
But she had heard about the situation with Kara Stanton, and how she had opted to let the world take her instead of a bullet. If given the opportunity, would she sacrifice herself to save Harold? John? Would she risk everything and be willing to gain nothing in return?  
  
"So how long have you and Delaney been-"  
"Nearly twenty years as friends. Took us a while to admit that we wanted to be together, and the rest quite frankly isn't your business yet." John snapped. He couldn't see her sharp face hidden in the security of the shadows, but he figured she was probably smirking. "What about you Shaw?"   
  
"Been too busy saving the world from bad guys. Besides, relationships are for amateurs. Guys these days have so many _emotions._ They cry, they want to be held. I just don't know how to deal with them!"   
  
''So, you're a nun?"   
  
"I'm a pragmatist, John. I go out and have a fun night or three. And then I move on! No muss, no fuss."   
  
Across town, Delaney was safely hidden away in the loft, desperate to wake herself from the nap she'd taken an hour earlier. She figured John would be with Shaw for the rest of the night which meant she needed a way to distract herself inside the apartment. "What kind of secrets do you hide?" She whispered, her eyes landing on the top drawer where John kept his socks and underwear, sifting through the garments until her fingers brushed against the soft velvet of an engagement box. Her eyes widened as she opened the box, tears filling her eyes as the topaz glistened in the moonlight from the window. "Like secrets to propose, maybe?"   
  
Millions of contemplative thoughts rushed through her head at once as she quickly hid the box back in the drawer, sliding on a pair of jeans and her jacket as her phone gan to buzz on the bedside table. She suppressed a grin as Johns caller ID photo, snatching up the cellphone and leaving the apartment. ''How fast can you be at the safe-house, Del?" John murmured, his voice husky. "We've got more information from Murphy. Thought you might want to accompany the rest of this out."   
  
"It would be my pleasure, handsome." She slid the phone in her pocket and sat on her bike, taking a deep breath as the realization hit her with the oncoming traffic. " _My pleasure to be your wife!!_ "


	35. You'd Promised It'd Be Worthwhile

It was well into their conversation when the door to the safehouse opened, revealing a breathless Delaney Chrysler who sat her helmet on the side table and jumped down the stairs to join the conversation. "You're late. Where were you?" John questioned, raising an eyebrow at her awed expression as Ian lifted his eyes to gaze at her. "Delaney?" 

He had no idea she was aware of the engagement ring in his dresser drawer, so she had to make him believe she was still oblivious to the fact that John Reese was actually going to _propose_ to her. "Sorry. Traffic was horrendous." She said, shrugging as she took a seat across from Joss Carter. "Delaney Chrysler, nice to meet you. Where are we at in this conversation?"   


"I was just about to ask Mr. Murphy why Bruce Wellington of all people would want him dead." Finch replied. Ian sighed and clasped his hands together, running them over his lips as he exhaled deeply. "Were you involved with his daughter?"   
  
Delaney and Joss kept a watchful eye on the man as he remained silent. "Ian," Joss said quietly, leaning forward on the table. "Tell us what happened so we can help you." 

Ian then began to recant a story; one of his relationship in the past years with Dana Wellington and how he had fallen in love with her. Due to his poverty-stricken life, Mr. Wellington had refused to allow his daughter to continue to see him, so he forced the couple apart without knowing the wellbeing of his daughter and her pregnancy.   
  
  
That next morning, the four of them had discovered the secret to why Mr. Wellington wanted Ian dead; to render him unable to take away his heir, the 9 year old that Dana had not aborted. John had immediately claimed Delaney as his backup, and together the two of them were off to Bruce Wellingtons home. 

She still couldn't shake the giddiness that had stuck when she'd seen the hidden engagement ring in his drawer.

Delaney adjusted her newest dress, a gift for Zoe when she had called the previous night about her impending engagement, forcing her to keep it a secret from John. "Miss Chrysler." She parted her lips into her most professional smile, applying all of the lessons she and Zoe had interspersed between the two of them in their earliest days of working together.   


"I hope you're doing well, Mr. Wellington."   
Bruce Wellington turned sharply on his heel and admired the woman in front of him. "Miss Chrysler. How's our mutual friend?"   
  
"Miss Morgan told me to inform you that she sends her best." She replied calmly. John couldn't help but pay incredible attention to her mannerisms, admiring the fact that she had yet to really show herself in front of Mr. Wellington. "This is John Wiley, the collector she told you about." 

John smiled warmly and outstretched his hand. "She says you're a man who can find things no one else can." 

"She flatters me but it's also true."   


"I'm looking for a privately owned Picasso, and I'm willing to pay whatever it takes." 

Excusing herself from the conversation, Delaney stepped up onto the second floor as Shaw repelled off the side of the building, pausing by the door as she let her in. "That was a good entrance." She mused, winking at Shaw who merely snorted in response. "Good Lord, I don't think the art talk could bore me more to death. John is fantastic at fitting a role." 

"We all know that." Shaw replied. "Now tell me where the safe is." 

She pointed in the corner of the closet, where a large old school steel safe with a rotating lock sat on top of a table. "You know, proving the kid is Ians won't get Wellington off of his back." Shaw pursed her lips and pressed her ear against the safe, fingers rotating in a methodical manner to crack it.   
  
"We'll leave the messy stuff to Harold."   
Delaney scanned the perimeter in search of unwanted guests, her eyes falling on two plane tickets to London several feet away from her. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned over the details, turning to reveal them to Shaw who had just successfully opened the safe. "Well, you better hurry there Shaw. Looks like Wellington is taking his grandson on a trip outside the country."   


"Got it!" She rifled through the documents inside, a growl escaping her lips as she came up empty. "Where is his birth certificate? It's not in here!"   
Cursing under her breath, both women leaned against the wall and stared at one another, thinking about their next course of action. "It takes days to run DNA and they leave the country tomorrow." Delaney murmured, chewing on her bottom lip as she concentrated. "This is not how I expected this to go." 

"Reese?" 

The two of them quickly made their way downstairs to join John in interrogating Bruce Wellington. "Alex has a father." He snapped, his eyes flickering to the women who now stood behind John, shoulders straightened and eyes narrowed.   
  
"No." Delaney replied sharply, brushing strands of oak colored hair from her face. "Alex has an aunt and uncle who raised him." Her hand subconsciously fell to her weapon, secured in her thigh holster beneath her dress. Wasn't her ideal way to hide a weapon, but since she had been working with Zoe, it was warranted.   
  
"I'm going to ask you one more time, Mr. Wellington. Where is your grandsons birth certificate?"   
  
It was clear that the older man was feeling threatened but unwilling to back down from an impending altercation. "Alex will never know that piece of white trash is his father. He is an _heir,_ not the help. Now security will show you out-" John stepped forward, slamming his fist into Bruces jaw and rendering him unconscious, his body limp on the floor.   


"You-You just knocked out a billionaire. In his own house." Delaney spoke in disbelief, her eyes wide as John turned to face her. "I don't know whether or not to be amazed or turned on. But here's the real problem. What do we do now?"   
  
***  
Joss Carter had worked her magic and had a new birth certificate printed and sent it into evidence, which had cleared Ian as Alex's rightful guardian and granted full custody. They had successfully completed another number, and Shaw had been adamant that they celebrate, which was how she found herself between four women inside a bar with John waiting outside.   


"Well ladies, I think I've had enough fun for one night." Zoe remarked, leaning against Delaney as she finished one last shot of tequila. "It's a shame I didn't get to see my Lady In Red in action, but it'll happen soon enough. Call me when there's more fun to be had."   


Delaneys smile fell when Zoe stood to her feet and ran a hand through her unkempt curls. "You don't forget about me, Zoe Morgan." She called out, lifting her glass to the other woman. Zoe smiled softly and lifted her own hand, curled as if she were raising her own glass. 

"Who can forget a woman like you?" 

Shaw was the first one to speak after Zoe had left the building, bidding goodnight to John outside as she passed him by. "She's right, you know. You're really comin' far, Chrysler. I'm proud of you." Delaney pressed her hand against her heart in mock shock, grinning at Shaw who simply downed another shot in response. "C'mon, that was genuine!"   


"I know and I appreciate it. You're a hell of a fighter, and a teacher. I still think you're strange and hard to please, but that comes with the job. You'll gain my respect soon enough, Shaw." Joss smiled over the rim of her glass and glanced out the window at John who looked more then ready to go home. "Is he still waiting for me?"   


"You know it." She whispered, a hint of amusement in her voice. "How long are you going to keep him waiting?" 

"All the boyfriends offer to walk the girl home." Delaney replied.   


"That's quite chivalrous of him." Shaw leaned down over the table and grabbed Bears leash, managing a small smile at the two women as she too left the bar.   
Joss swallowed the growing lump in her throat as she shifted her weight, her attention now focused on the matter that had been slowly growing in her mind since she had agreed to help with this number. "Delaney, there's something I've been meaning to ask you for a while and now is the opportune time to talk about it."   


"Go ahead, you know-"   


"No." Joss demanded, slamming her glass on the table. She and Zoe had been making note of how much alcohol the younger woman took during their nights, and she was quite aware of the lingering PTSD that never seemed to go away, but the matter of HR's takedown had to be a priority. It couldn't just be compartmentalized anymore. "You're an exceptional field agent, despite what Shaw and John have told you. I've seen your work. You're good at intel, and blending it with a crowd and manipulating others into trusting you. That's what a job like the one you're in entails. And John told me about the people you saved in Afghanistan and your time in the bomb squad-" 

She nearly spit out her drink at the words that came from Carters mouth. Despite her prolonged relationship with the Detective, there were some things about her past she simply didn't want people to know. "He told you _what?"  
_

_"_ The what doesn't matter because it's never going to leave my own mouth. My point is, you're good at what you do and I need those skills to help take down HR. I'll have to fill you in on what I have so far, but if you're in, that means eventually John will be in too. I'm not expecting you to sacrifice yourself," Joss took a deep breath as John slumped his shoulders outside, obvious exhaustion creeping across his face. "But I'll need you to prepare yourself for the outcome."   


"This-" Delaney started, tugging on the ends of her hair as she struggled to form a coherent sentence. "This isn't something to take lightly, Joss. The takedown of HR guarantees a death, and I don't want that to be you _or_ me." A small smile crept across her face as she once again motioned to John outside. "I'm just starting to build a life for myself, you know? I don't want to waste that potential." 

Joss' face fell. "I understand-" Her statement was halted by Delaney settling her hand on top of her own comfortably, warmth spreading across her face as they looked at one another. There was a trust there, a commitment to one another that neither of them were used to. It felt good to be able to put their trust into each other. "You're my ally in this, one of the people I trust most. If I told John-"

"I'll think about it." She blurted out, standing to her feet and tossing her hair behind her shoulders. "It's not a yes, but it's not a no. I'll think about it. In the meanwhile, I've got an exhausted assassin to take home to my bed. G'night Joss." 

John smiled wearily as Delaney exited the bar, flagging down a cab as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder. Moments of vulnerability were seldom in their relationship in public, but the events of the day had exhausted him and he wanted nothing more then to sleep. "Tomorrow night," He whispered softly, his lips grazing her ear as he scooted closer to her in the back seat. A shiver ran up her spine as his hand slid up her thigh, resting at her weak spot near the fabric of her panties. "You and me are going on a date. No numbers, no guns, no blood. Just a normal date with the most beautiful woman on the planet."   
  
"A date. I can deal with that." She murmured, ducking her head beneath his own to place kisses on the underside of his jaw. John inhaled sharply as her fingers brushed the exposed skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, but she made no move to unbutton it further. "It better be worthwhile though. I'm going to look gorgeous, just for you." 

He thought back to the home in the suburbs, the excitement on her face as she fantasized over the thought of having children with him, the hidden engagement ring that sat in his drawer, the life they could have together. In that moment of time, John Reese wanted nothing more then to be married to the very woman who had stayed with him, the one who had decided to never leave him, even at his worst.

He promised her that he would make her happy, and what is a man if he can't see dreams through to the end?


	36. Home Is When I'm With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are not just another part of the story,  
> We're the heroes who won.

"Proposing is not this difficult, you're overthinking it." John murmured to himself as he rushed to pack food into the picnic basket sitting on the white marble island. He had sent Delaney out an hour earlier with Zoe, insisting that she find a casual outfit for their date and sending the two women on their way. Part of him hoped it was a sundress, something that accentuated the amber of her eyes. He'd spent the previous night thinking of the perfect way to propose, and it had occurred to him that she would most likely abhor a public proposal in a high class restaurant.   
  
So that was how he found himself on the roof of their apartment complex, spreading out two thick picnic blankets and surrounding them with cotton scented candles. He wore her favorite blue dress shirt and jeans, leaving the top two buttons open as John ran his hands through his hair. The weather forecast had granted him clear skies and minimal wind, so the stars were especially bright against the darkness of the sky. 

"So this is an ideal proposal?" He whipped around to find Delaney standing behind him, her bangs hidden in a mirage of brown curls, her arms across her chest as she adjusted her dress. "Let me remind you, dresses are not me. I look ridiculous." 

John couldn't help the smile that spread over his face as his hands trailed down her forearms to link their fingers together. "You look gorgeous, sweetheart." He whispered, bringing their linked hands up to his lips and tenderly kissing each of her bruised knuckles. "But I'm going to have be assertive for once. Take off your shoes."   
  
"Next thing you're going to tell me to take off is my clothes." She mused, winking at him as she removed the white crochet sandals Zoe had picked out in their favorite dress shop.   


' _'Delaney._ " 

She brushed his shoulder as she walkd past him, tilting her chin upward to look at the stars. "I remember the last time I went star gazing with you. Just the two of us." She said quietly, leaning against Johns chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "It was two days before I left for London. I'd done a bunch of smaller ops with other agents, and at that point had killed six people, but I was more nervous for London then the rest of them. Mckenna was with Owen at the bar and it was the first moment alone we'd had in months. That was the first time I made a promise to you. Promised to come back." She inhaled deeply as his lips descended on her neck, trailing warm kisses upward to the spot just above her ear. "And I did."   


"I love you." He whispered softly, gripping her hips as they sat down, her back still resting against his chest. They intertwined their legs as Delaney sat the picnic basket in her lap, her mouth beginning to water at the dinner John had cooked. A platter of chicken parmesean for two people, along with a small salad and apple pie. "The apple pie was store bought."   


"Of course it was." She murmured, moaning as she bit into the chicken. "I haven't had good food like this in years. That's what undercover life is. Crappy food and lots of bruises." John smiled and together the two of them ate in silence, until the stereo in the corner began to play one of her favorite songs. "What's this?" 

John wiped his mouth with his sleeve, standing to his feet and outstretching his hand. "This is me asking to dance with you. If you're willing, that is." He replied, wrapping his arms around her waist as she stood to her feet, her body fitting perfectly in the curve of his. It never ceased to amaze him after all these years how much Delaney Chrysler complemented him as a person. "I love this."   


"Dancing?" 

He inhaled deeply as he hid his face in her shoulder. "No. Being with you. These stolen moments alone with just the two of us make me feel like I'm still a human being. Like I still have the capability to _be_ John Reese. I don't have to put up walls or masks when it's just us. I love that." She settled her chin on his shoulder, cherishing the feeling of his warm skin beneath her fingers and the rhthymic pulse under her fingertips. He was breathing, he was alive and John Reese was oh so very real.   
It wasn't until he pulled away from their dance and the next song began to play that reality finally sunk in.   


_I'm coming home  
To breathe again  
To start again _  


"For the longest time, I thought that Jessica was the one. That maybe she would give me some chance of a normal life with a normal family. I thought my life ended when she was pronounced dead." Her eyes couldn't break from his as John fiddled with the same engagement ring she'd discovered the previous night. "My life ended when I watched you walk out of that hangar and chose not to speak up. My world fell apart when you didn't return, and I'm not willing to let you slip away again." Tears sprung to her eyes as John opened the velvet box and removed the ring.   
  
_I'm coming home  
From all the places I have been   
With nothing but a voice within  
That calls me...   
Calls me home  
_

"I always thought home rested inside a building. Home to me for the longest time was with Kara Stanton, fulfilling the orders I was given. I thought that home was where I was." John resisted the urge to bite back a sob as Delaney began to cry behind the hand that was placed over her mouth. "But then I realized home is when I'm with _you._ You are my home, Delaney Chrysler. You're my best friend, my ally, and the only woman I ever want to love. I don't need a wedding, considering the world thinks that we're already dead-"   
  
"John."   


"I just want us to be married. Will you marry me?" 

Delaney lifted her fingers and wiped at her eyes with a napkin, gazing down at the man who knelt beneath her. That compassion driven, broken man who wanted nothing more then to be with the woman who loved him unconditionally despite his faults. Flashing a watery smile, she outstretched her hand and Johns eyes immediately lit up. " _Yes._ "


	37. Not My Fight, Still Isn't My Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every love story is beautiful  
> But ours is my favorite

"Joss, I've thought long and hard about this." Delaney murmured, pacing the balcony outside the loft as she sipped her morning tea. It had been several days since she'd agreed to marry John, and she knew that she'd have to give Detective Carter an answer about her HR takedown. "If I was a part of the NYPD, I would consider this my fight. Taking down HR is not my fight, it's yours. I just don't think it's a battle that needs to be fought _right now._ " 

Of course, Joss Carter was not one for reluctance, so she immediately dismissed her words. "Congratulations on your engagement, Mrs. Reese." She mused. "I think it's time for the two of you to get back to your job, don't you think?" Before she could answer, the line had cut off and Joss had ended the call. Delaney sighed and slid her phone into her sweatshirt pocket and leaned against the chipped red railing to gaze at the skyline of New York.   
  
"You've been up a while. Who were you making a call to?" John called out, stepping out of the window in nothing but low hanging slate grey sweats. Delaney relaxed in his embrace as she set her coffee cup to the side. "We don't have many friends, and you're not entirely fond of Shaw-"   


"Joss." She interrupted sharply. "I was talking to Joss about HR." 

He never once interrupted as she recanted the night in the bar, where Joss had asked for her help in taking down HR so she wouldn't have to do it by herself. A part of him was angry she had even considered doing it at all, but the other part of him was relieved she had denied the job. "You're right." John said quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as he ducked back inside the Loft. "It's not your fight. You want to know what is? Numbers. Speaking of, Harold called and said he has one. Ready to go to work?"   
***

When they had arrived at the Library, Finch had immediately sent John to take pictures of their newest POI, a hypnotherapist in town. The two of them had returned together and she was beginning to grow ever curious of the reason as to why Finch wouldn't let her near the Library.   


"We had our fun few days off.'' Delaney snapped loudly, catching Harolds attention from where he was spewing out facts about Henry Price, the hypnotherapist. "You need to tell me why you won't let me near the Library, Harry. Or trust me, I'm going to go crazy on you. You don't want to see my bad side."   


"Miss Chrysler, keep a cool head for a moment. I'll take you if you can keep your rational thinking on and your emotions _off._ " Almost immediately, Delaney flipped off her somber emotions and trailed off down the hall after Finch, pausing at a chainlink gate secured by a rather simple lock. "I have brought someone along to help us."   
  
Sure enough, Samantha Groves was sitting at a small desk nearly covered in books, a smile pressed on her face as Delaney lunged past Harold and tackled the younger woman to the ground. "Well, I was waiting for the moment we'd be reunited." Root purred, gasping as her grip around her throat tightened, restricting her ability to breathe. "H- _Harold-"  
_

_"_ Miss Chrysler-" Finch called out, cutting off his sentence as Delaney jerked Root to her feet and landed multiple punches to her jaw, hard enough to leave a definitive bruise that most likely would be hidden by hair. "I said turn your emotions _off!_ "

Delaney stood to her feet at the same time as Root, pressing her hand against her chest in a futile attempt to try and control her breathing. "Look, I'm going to make myself very clear here. You see these hands? These hands have been covered in blood, have saved people from death and have defused bombs. People who have tried to kill me have not won. I don't like killing people," She shrugged absently and bent over to pull her hair up into a ponytail. "Really, it's not my thing. Not like it is for Shaw and Reese. But let me make myself _very_ clear, interface. You try to run, make any sort of escape, or even look at the four of us sideways.. I'll put a bullet in your head faster then you can inhale your last breath of life. I will make your last moments the most pain you've ever felt. Are we clear?"   


"Crystal clear, _Mrs. Reese._ " 

She stormed past Harold in a daze, pulling out her cellphone and dialing Joss Carters number. If Shaw was on watch with John, she was going to make good use of her time today and take photos of Terney and Simmons. How do you catch a rat if not make plans to trap it?   


"Hello?"   


"Hey Joss. I've got a bike and a professional spy camera. Are you still in need of surveillance photos?"  


"Ditch the bike, bring the camera. I've got plenty of room for help."

***  
While Joss stayed hidden from Simmons sight, Delaney was leaning against the bed of a truck in her street cloths, her messy hair hiding most of her face as she snapped pictures of Terney, Simmons and Laskey. Joss had warned her to stay far enough away from the cops in order for her identity to remain hidden, knowing that if Delaney was taken into custody that John would be out for blood.   


" _How are the pictures? Do you have enough?_ "

She ducked behind the bed of the navy truck and flipped through the photos, which was more than enough to lock up all three men. "I've got more then enough pictures." Delaney whispered, grimacing as she tore off the ratty shirt and tossed it into the truck, exchanging it for her leather jacket and maroon blouse John loved. "What do we do now?"   


" _They're going to an auction so Terney can show Laskey the money launderer. Want to go to an auction?"_

Joss grinned widely as Delaney entered her cruiser, slamming the door shut as she sped off down the road and followed Terneys car as inconspicuously as possible, pulling off to the side when they were parked in front of an auction house. The two women listened intently through the paired phone until the passenger seat was jerked downward. "Crap. Crap!" She hissed. "What the heck are John and Shaw doing here? John doesn't know I agreed to help you! He'll-"   
"Scold you for stupid decisions? You obviously weren't interested in that number."   


"Actually, I threatened Root and stormed out of the Library because I was so infuriated that Finch would take in a basket case. There's some days I just can't deal with being a part of Team Machine. Today is one of those days." 

Unfortunately, John had fast enough reflexes to see that she had in fact laid her seat down, and tapped on the window with his fingers as he approached it. Delaney groaned as she lifted the lever, leveling out the chair as John slid into the back seat. "You know, you could've just told me you were taking surveillance photos for her. It would have been alot better then me thinking you had run off and you know, died." 

Delaney jabbed a thumb at Joss and fished her camera out from beneath the seat. "You can talk to her for the day. I'm choosing to be selectively mute considering the fact that Harold took in Root. She's like a pathetic puppy without a master. It's kind of sad." 

After disclosing the information of their number, the two of them came to the conclusion that their number and Joss' lead were indeed connected. "Stay with her until I call you back to the loft. Better you're doing what you're good at with intel and surveillance while Shaw and I handle this. But if our paths cross with HR, I want you as my fore runner." Her eyes widened as John lightly grasped her shoulder. "Shaw can be backup. I'm done keeping someone who's good at what they do hidden away because of me."   


He bumped fists with Joss and exited the car promptly, vanishing inside the auction house. "I can't believe he just agreed to let me help you. He's finally giving me the ability to work to my best capacity. It's about time." Joss smiled and turned the key, revving the engine before setting a destination for the Swedish antique dealers shop.   


"That man is a fool in love. Can't say I blame him for protecting what's his. I admire his attempts to be professional around you in the field. Besides," She snorted lightly as Delaney yawned, stretching out her limbs and sipping the water Joss had given her when they'd met earlier that morning. "It's more to focus on then the fact that he's practically dying to you know, _be with you_ for the first time."   


"Joss?" Delaney questioned, ignoring the devious grin on the cops face as she propped her feet on the dashboard. "Shut up and drive."   
***  
"Detective? Have you figured out how the antique dealer is connected to HR's money laundering?"   


"Me and Delaney are meeting my source now, and then I'm bringing her back to you." Joss stepped out of the car, raising an eyebrow at the brunette leaning against the chainlink fence that surrounded Elias' hideout. Part of her was amazed that Delaney had ever been in the Army to begin with. The leather jacket, dark makeup and cold eyes screamed lethal assassin more then protector of our country. "Are you ready? The cigarette adds to the sexy look." 

Delaney huffed and stomped out the cigarette beneath the tip of her knee high boots. "I only smoke every so often. Helps to clear my head and reminds me of my base back in Afghanistan. Where things were much simpler and I wasn't having to constantly fear dying because I didn't really have to worry about leaving others behind." She muttered, her eyes flickering down to her engagement ring. "I have not formally met Elias yet." 

"Oh believe me, he's going to love you." 

Carl Elias was a cunning, shrewd, manipulative man. But he had admired John Reese since the day they'd met, and he greatly admired Delaney Chrysler the moment she walked into the room. Her eyes narrowed the moment they settled on him, her hips swaying back and forth as she stalked inside behind Joss Carter, hand wrapped firmly around her gun. "Oh, please do relax Mrs. Reese. I already admire you more then your husband. So... mad at the world for ruining your life. How does it feel to be human?"   
'I'm not here for you." She snapped coldly. "I admire your work as well but you're here because Carter needs you. Focus on the task at hand." 

Elias' lips curled upward as she leaned forward and snatched the wine bottle, vanishing into the darkness with the bottle hanging loosely in her fingers. "Alcohol abuser as well. Your poor friend is the perfect match for John." 

As she waited for Joss to finish her conversation, Delaney finished the red wine and slammed the bottle into the ground. Alcohol did nothing to her anymore, not like it had when she'd been serving in Iraq and Afghanistan. Instead of inhibiting her, it gave her more focus and adrenaline. " _Mrs Reese?"_

She chuckled and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the small cuts on her hands from the shattered glass. "Am I going to have to get used to that name now too, Finch?"   


" _I think it would be best if you returned to the coordinates I'm sending to your phone. John's about to be on his way there with our therapist, whos girlfriend will not be happy when she sees him."_

Glancing down at the text message, she sighed and stepped from the shadows just as Joss stood from the table. "I'm needed by the dream team." She said. "My camera is underneath the passenger seat in your car, so take those pictures and get them developed. I can walk to the hotel." 

She turned on her heel and began to walk out the door when the sharp, scrutinizing tone of Elias echoed across the large room. "My condolences, Mrs. Reese." He mused. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again very, very soon!"   
***  
"When we see this guy again, can I smack him with my gun?" 

"C'mon. This is your classic love story." John drawled out, grinning when Delaney leaned over and punched him in the arm, downing another bottle of water and tossing the bottle in the trash on the curb. "Criminal falls in love with woman who in return turns on him? It's like a twisted version of Romeo and Juliet."   


"Jee, I'm growing to love Amber more and more every day." Fusco retorted, jabbing a thumb in front of him where Hayden stood expectantly waiting for his girlfriend. "Hey lover boy." Hayden rose an eyebrow as John motioned for him to place the ball in his hand.   
  
"This your girl? She reminds me of mine." His eyes followed her body up and down until a punch was delivered to his stomach, doubling him over at the waist as Hayden dug the baseball out of his jacket. "And she p-packs a punch!!"   
John dusted off the baseball and rested it in Fuscos hand. "He's my expert." Delaney watched closely as Fusco slid on his glasses and began to examine the signatures etched into the decades old leather. "Like you said, you're a crook.''   
"I don't know about expert, but these names look pretty real." Fusco mentioned, turning the ball back and forth in his hands. 

"I'll split it with you. Fifty fifty? Sixty forty?" 

Delaney leaned around John and met Lionels eyes, hiding her face with her hair to supress her smirk. "Is this guy actually serious?"   


"It's not that bad a deal!"   


"Will you at least let me call Natalie before you kill me, arrest me or throw me in a well in your basement?" Delaney reached into the pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out her cellphone, slowly resting it in his hand. His blue eyes met hers for a brief moment before he began to dial the number. "You know for a woman, you're incredibly intimidating. Don't lose that nature, it'll be useful for you later." 

She continued to watch the oncoming traffic as Haydens eyes widened with fear, turning to her and John to speak the words running in a constant motion through his head. "Alright blonde one," She replied calmly. "How bad is it?"   
  
"For that much money? They'll kill her!!" 

Delaney sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, obviously annoyed with his lack of rational thoughts. "And what are _you_ going to do about it?"  


"Look, I know you both think I'm scum. I get it. But Natalie.. My final trick, my ultimate con, was going to be to turn into the guy she fell in love with."   


_What are we, if not people who make mistakes?  
What are humans if this is not our fatal flaw? _

Despite his criminality, Hayden was just another one of the numbers that in reality had one goal in mind. To become the man his woman deserved. How could she sit here and scold a man who also happened to have the same goal of the one she'd agreed to marry?   


_How do you fix a man who can't become who he thinks he should be?  
Do you let him dream of what can't happen?  
Or make it reality? _  


"I'll help you. I may regret it later, but I'll still help you." She blurted out, closing her eyes as John turned his head toward her, still wearing a stoic expression. "Will you help us both, John?"

Less then twenty minutes later, she was kneecapping people with Sameen inside the identifiers building where HR had taken the fake baseball. Shaw let out a breath when the men Delaney had shot fell just a millisecond before the men she had kneecapped, and John smashed a chair over Detective Terneys head. "He was right." She breathed, glancing at Delaney who winked in response. "You are a good shot."   


"Glad to see your expectations of me are rising, Shaw." 

"So where's the real ball?" 

Hayden's bright blue eyes flickered between his three guardian angels before landing back on the ball in his hand. His life had nearly ended multiple times because of a piece of sports equipment. _How sad._ "I thought this was the real ball!" He exclaimed, tossing it on the ground. "Forget that. Where is Natalie?"   


"Shaw and I put her in a cab and told her to go somewhere safe." 

They followed Hayden outside and watched his last conversation with the woman he adored, who ultimately had played him the same way he had played HR. "I'm ruined." He said quietly, leaning his weight against the railing behind him. "What do I do now?"   


"Maybe it's time you went on the straight and narrow. You'll live longer."

He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and managed a weak smile. "You know, I do have a thriving practice to rebuild. I'm going to need an office with out all the bullet holes."

Delaney lifted her head and wrapped her fingers around her oak colored tendrils of hair, pulling it out of her face and into a tight ponytail. "Our advice? Rebuild in another city and get out of this one." He managed a small nod and outstretched his hand, shaking Johns before turning on his heel and vanishing around the corner. "You want to hear about my patroling of HR?"  
  
"Not particularly." John replied, looping his arm through hers as they began to make their way back to the Library. "I knew you'd be more interested helping Joss. Did you meet anyone interesting?"  


"I ran across Elias path. He was Joss' source about the money laundering that Sven was doing. Our conversation was very short," She clucked her tongue in distaste which merely made John's smile wider. "He's not a very outgoing person. Analyzed me right off the bat though. But he did say something strange when Joss and I left."  
  
"Which was?" 

She turned to John and gripped his hands, her gaze traveling up his body before locking with his eyes as she repeated Elias' exact words. "My condolences, Mrs. Reese. I'm sure we will be meeting again very soon."  
***

Joss Carter let out a sharp sob as she gathered the photos that Laskey had taken, tucking the manilla envelope inside her jeans as she fled the scene. He had been a rookie, caught up in a fight that wasn't his and she had gotten him killed for it.  
Her eyes fell onto the screen of her cellphone, where her most recent calls were displayed. Her heart screamed for her to contact Delaney and John, but she knew that if she did, they'd both be pulled into her personal vendetta of taking down HR for Beechers death. Despite her internal conflict, she wanted to keep the two of them informed.  


"Joss? Is everything alright?"

Joss couldn't seem to calm her erratic breathing even as she laid her head against the steering wheel. "Terney and Laskey are dead. Before Terney died, I got him to tell me who the head of HR was."  
  
"I'm waiting Jocelyn."

John sat up at the waist to wrap his arms around his fiances, who was sitting cross legged in his lap as she put her phone onto speaker phone. " _The head of HR is Alonzo Quinn."_

And then the world they cherished so deeply began to go into the abyss.


	38. Nobody Can Stop Her Now

''Just like a real woman," John mused, snickering as the two of them parked their bikes simultaneously on the curb. "Sits and casually drinks her coffee while the man listens to his boss drone on about numbers. Are you sure you don't want to come in with me?"

Delaney hung her helmet on the handgrip and leaned back while bringing her coffee cup up to her lips in a mock toast. "I have a feeling this one will be a thriller. Have fun!" She called out, grinning at John who merely scowled as he vanished inside the Library.

She inhaled the crisp morning air, sighing as the wind blew through her hair and down the busied street. It felt surreal to be a part of society even if for a brief moment. To sit back, bask in the complexity of the human race, and not worry about death lurking around every corner.  


Her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket, signaling a text message from Lionel. She slid the screen upward on her IPhone and frowned as her eyes scanned the message. Part of her had hoped that it was Carter finally admitting surrender and giving up her takedown of HR.   
  
_Fusco: Got a drug incident for you and your husband to look into._

Just as she looked back up, John had gripped her wrist and forced it towards him to look at the message on display in her hand. "Funny, the news Finch had to give me was 38 numbers that are all connected to HR. Maybe this ties into it." He said. Delaney lifted an eyebrow as John straddled the bike and motioned for her to follow. "Fusco's got an incident for us. Let's find out who wants HR dead."   
  
***  
"Since when does Colonel Nutcase here speak Russian?" Fusco deadpanned, watching with amusement lurking in his eyes as Delaney talked to the truck driver, translating every sentence he spoke in Russian. ''Alright, translate in detail, why don't you?" 

She stood to her feet and dusted off her jeans, straightening her leather jacket and smoothing her hair behind her ear. "I took Russian as a elective course in high school. Never really had the opportunity to use it until now, _Lionel._ " Delaney examined the scene around her- the blaring sirens of the firetruck to the tracks left on the concrete and the missing supply truck.   


"When were you two going to tell me about your badges? Warn me next time, why don't you!" 

Delaney ducked her head and smiled as the three of them trekked up the street. "But that would ruin all the fun!" She articulated. "Tell me, what does all of this have to do with HR?"   
  
"You know who owns a supply company? Peter Yogorov. He uses it to smuggle drugs into the city. With HR's alliance, the cops are supposed to provide safe passage. Now you want to know why HR might be in trouble? How about losing a truck full of contraband on their watch?"   


"That's got to suck."   


"And _that_ would be the understatement of the century."   
  
"Can you get us the camera feed?" Delaney forced a sweet smile which in response made Fusco nod and grumble under his breath, something about using up all of their favors. "You're the man, Lionel!" 

She quickly followed John back to the motorcycle and smirked what she called a Sameen smirk, which only made John laugh harder. "The Sameen smirk doesn't work for you, sunshine. You're much too soft for it." An indignant look passed across her face as she punched John in the shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist as he revved the engine. "Should we check on Joss?" 

It was the first time John had expressed concern for Carter since finding out about her off the books pursuit of HR. "She'll be in her apartment in about an hour. If we do this, you know she's going to tell you no, right?"   


"I can be a very convincing person." 

***  
Joss Carter tossed her keys on the entry table and paused in the doorway of her living room, gazing at the silhouettes- one lounged on her floor while the other stood silent by the window. "Are you- Are you doing leg stretches on the floor of my apartment?" She criticized, pressing one hand against her hip as she flicked the light switch upward. "Can I also assume you didn't use the front door, John?"   


"We never do. Military veterans are always looking for a way out." Delaney called, dropping her leg to the floor as John locked his hands beneath her arms and hoisted her to her feet. "Why not use your exit as your entrance?" 

Her dark brown eyes shifted between the married couple before settling on John who still stood by the darkened window, peering out from behind the curtains at the HR cops staking out the street. The epitome of calm amidst the storm, the gentle giant with the deadly hands, the lonely man with a heavy heart. She was grateful for the healing that Delaney Reese had brought John after she'd first met him the night he'd been arrested on the subway. She had turned a hurting man into a whole man with unconditional love for his wife. "I need you both to get this through your head. You need to _both_ leave me alone."   
  
"Now is not the time to fly solo Carter!"   
"Don't get me wrong John, I appreciate everything you've done for me and the city. But in the eyes of the law, you're still a criminal." Carter stomped her foot to halt Delaneys next words. " _Both_ of you. And HR already knows we work together. If they could prove it?" Joss exhaled the breath she'd been holding and shook her head. "I have to finish this alone."   


"Do you not get what this holds for you?!" Delaney snapped, gritting her teeth as her head snapped up to meet her friends. She'd spent many a nights in this apartment upon her arrival to New York after the tragedy in London. Joss had been one of the two people to bring her back from the brink of a certain death from alcoholism, and she wasn't ready to give up the friendship the two of them had kindled. "Taking down HR on your own holds certain death. Whether or not it's for you, or for us, _someone_ will die by the time this is over." 

John outstretched his hand, tightly gripping her wrist in his fingers. It was one of the few universal codes they'd established in the Military- a silent sign for her to remain silent from that point on. "Alright," He said quietly. "You do what you need to do. You know HR won't go down without a fight. If you get in over your head, give one of us a call."   


"No." Delaney interjected sharply. "Give _him_ a call. I'm not about to help someone who's throwing her life away."   
Joss swallowed thickly and turned her head away from the fuming brunette now headed for the door. She felt incredibly guilty for pushing out two of the people who had helped her and her city so many times, but at that moment, revealing Quinn and taking down HR trumped her emotions and her relationships. "With the way you keep tabs on me, how much trouble can I get in?" 

The two of them left Joss' apartment in silence, their feet shuffling along the sidewalk as they ventured down the road and into the darkness. "I can't let myself _feel_ that John." Delaney seethed, motioning to Joss' front door with her fingers that were poking out of her cut off gloves. "After everything I've done to bring myself back? Everything she did? How do I forgive someone who's literally throwing their life away?"   


"This is our job. This is your job. This world needs someone who'll save the ones that are too far gone." John shrugged on his coat and lifted the collar, the material just hitting the bottom of his jaw. "Carter needs us now more then ever. Don't give up on someone who's never even thought of giving up on you." 

***

She met up with Sameen on the sidewalk outside the next morning, gun hidden in her waistband and her hair resting against her shoulders. Her night had mainly consisted of every worst case scenario that could possibly play out in the takedown of HR, many of which still involved Joss' death. "Hey Red. You comin' up?" Shaw commented, chewing on a sugar doughnut as she entered the Library. Delaney sighed and quickly followed, sinking in step with the other woman as Bear greeted them at the main hall. "What're you two watching?"   


''Now I don't think Delaney would do something like this, but I'm curious. Was this one of you two?" John remarked, extending his hand toward the monitor he and Finch were hunched over. Delaney leaned into John as the two of them rewatched the same footage the men had been examining a moment before.   


"Guess she does know her way around a 37 mil." Shaw murmured, quirking an eyebrow out of amusement. Whoever was in the video, Shaw knew much more then she was willing to let on.   


"Do you know something about this?" 

Shaw crossed her arms over her chest. "I know somebody needed fire power. Reese had plenty in his arsenal, so I made a donation on behalf of him and his new bride." Delaney and John cast a skeptical glance at one another before they both turned their attention to the computer screen. 

"Holy crap, please don't tell me that's Joss."   


"She said she had tried to keep you two out of it, so she only informed me." Delaney growled quietly under her breath as she gripped the top of Finch's computer chair with whitened fingers. "Little Miss Perfect here would've tried to talk her out of it, as would Finch." 

Delaneys eyes followed John as he pulled her weapon from his waistband and cocked the slide. "I need you two to get an eye on every one of those numbers. Delaney's with me." Shaw rolled her eyes as the couple began down the hall only to be stopped by her voice.   
  
"And how do you expect us to be thirty eight places at once, Reese?" 

The brunette turned sharply on her heel, her amber eyes full of fire as she met Shaw's _try me_ gaze several feet away. "You want to know what happens if HR finds out Carter went full Terminator mode on them?" She pressed her index and middle fingers together and angled her thumb upward, imitating a gun pressed to her forehead before the trigger was squeezed. "She's graced with a bullet to the face, and I'm not willing to let that happen. So, just this _one time_ -" She exhaled sharply while tilting her head towards the ceiling to control her tears. "I'm going to let my emotions overpower my judgement."  
  
***  
  
After the NYPD had arrested over half of their HR members and most of the Russians, Delaney and John found themselves outside Judge Monahans house where Joss had been cornered by Quinn, Simmons and several other high ranking HR members.   
As she waited for Joss' signal, Delaney leaned back against the brick and inhaled deeply while closing her eyes tightly. It had been a long process to where she had gotten to- fighting for what she believed in, married to her best friend, having given up her only addiction she'd gained from the military- and Joss had been a large part of getting her there. There had been so many thankful words still left unspoken, and she couldn't bring herself to allow a sacrificial woman like Joss Carter to die without saying them.   


"You want to thank her, don't you?" John whispered, turning his head towards hers as they continued waiting. Her eyes glowed against the screen of her cellphone where they were listening in through Simmons cloaked phone. "You give up yourself for others all the time and it kills you that someone else is finally refusing to let you do so. How's it feel to be powerless?"   


"Awful." She said quietly, cocking the slide on her gun as John smiled - that seemingly beautiful smile that was only reserved for her when they were alone. 

The two of them jumped from the shadows as one monster preying for its kill, destroying the glass doors as they entered the living room. Everything began to blur as multiple kneecaps were shattered and each man of HR fell down like a domino piece, slow and steady. Joss slammed Alonzo Quinn against the wall and rushed out the front door with John and Delaney on his heels.   


"Delaney, go back to the Library." 

Delaney turned around to gape at John with wide eyes. "Are you kidding me?! There is no logical reason for me to go back to the Library now! You need all the help-" John slapped the weapon from her hand and gripped her wrist, his eyes piercing her own as he ducked his head to his chest. " _No._ "   


''Remember when I said this would eventually go to hell?" John remarked sharply, his voice now a low growl as Simmons voice roared inside the walls of the house. "It just did. Go back to the Library on the bike and stay there until I give you updates. You'll know when it's time to come out." 

Her eyes snapped between Carter and her husband - desperate but firm as he waited for her to give into his demand. This wasn't just a part of Johns personality. He also was under the impression somebody was going to die, and he wouldn't allow her to try and give herself up to save Joss who had been preparing for the final blow since her decimation of HR had started. " _No."_  


"GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" 

A sharp scream echoed against the once silent night as the pair of three darted into the darkness, leaving a bleeding woman to stumble to her motorcycle hidden further down the road, tears running down her face as she glanced at the wound on her arm, now freely bleeding through her jacket. "I swear, John Reese." She snarled, revving the engine as her bike took off for Manhattan. "I'll never forgive you if you get yourself killed for me." 


	39. Requiem For The Departed

_When had my city turned into hell?_

Delaney sped through the traffic on the freeway, biting down on her bottom lip in an attempt to draw her attention away from the growing pain in her arm. She switched gears as Manhattan approached- hiding in the shadows as the Library loomed in the distance. "Finch? Please tell me Sameen is still with you because I may or may not have gotten grazed when John forced me to separate from him and Quinn. All my medical supplies are at the loft."

Finch tapped the earpiece with his fingertip, motioning to Sameen to head downstairs. "She's on her way down to meet you at the door." He replied. "Once you are patched up enough to continue working, Miss Shaw will head out into town in case her services are needed elsewhere. Why did Mr. Reese send you back here?" 

The two women emerged from the staircase, Shaw balancing most of Delaneys weight on her shoulders with her arm tightly wrapped around her waist. "John has this theory that if he can keep me away from the danger that nothing will ever touch me." She said bitterly, gasping as Shaw began to clean her gunshot graze. "That's the thing he doesn't realize, we're all already in hell. And if I can do a little bit of good in saving the lives of these numbers.. It'll be what I'm remembered for." 

Sameen smiled widely as she wrapped gauze around her arm and tightly secured it with medical tape. "Looks like we're going to have some fun tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Also, your sexy leather jacket is blood stained. May want to get a new one." 

"You're not helping Shaw!" Delaney cried out, laughing as Sameen wiggled her eyebrows and disappeared once again down the staircase. The brunette grit her teeth and screwed her eyes shut, lifting her arms to pull her hair into a ponytail but to no avail. "I can't believe I've finally warmed up to her. I never expected that to happen." 

Finch took the ponytail from her fingers and expertly pulled her hair into a loose ponytail. He'd had much experience with hair through being with Grace for so long, learning how to do simplistic braids through much needed time running his fingers through her hair. "I would tell you yourself to get back into the open to assist your husband, but you seem very passive on the idea." He remarked, stepping back as Delaney stood to her feet and sat in the swivel chair parallel to the endless row of monitors. She pulled up a map of all five boros and leaned in to take a closer look. "What do you see?" 

"HR took that picture and sent it to their criminal network, which means John and Carter are going to have a heck of a time getting to the FBI building downtown." She propped her feet up on the desk and tapped her earpiece with her fingertip. "Hiya handsome. Regretting kicking me to the curb yet?" 

John pushed the two unconscious bodies of the closest gang members out onto the subway station, motioning for Carter to follow him with a sluggish Alonzo Quinn. "I thought I heard a gunshot whenever Carter and I left the house." John said quietly, trying to hide the guilt in his voice. He hadn't intended for her to get shot, but had fully expected her to resist him. "Are you alright?" 

"I may kill you next time we see each other, but it's just a graze. Sameen patched me up." The radio silence became deafening and it was then she realized that their connection to John had been cut off. "John? Are you there?" She called out, slamming her fist into the desk and alarming a half asleep Bear who was lounging at her feet. "Crap!" 

"What happened?" Finch questioned cautiously. 

"We were cut off." Her eyes widened as she turned in her chair to face the billionaire who almost immediately recognized the look lurking deep in her amber orbs; _fear._ "And I don't know what happens from here." Harold turned on his heel and picked up the dining tray he always set aside for Root, placing it in her hands. "You want me to confront the psychopath? I nearly beat her to death last time." 

''I think it's time the two of you make amends." Harold held up a hand to silence her incredulous remark, his thin lips quirking upward in a smile as she growled beneath her breath. "And please, do try not to spill blood. There are priceless editions in that Library." 

Delaney stood to her feet and feigned a weak smile, gripping the tray with white knuckles. Of all the things she wanted to do tonight, confronting the one woman who had nearly caused her to lose Harold and John was the last thing on her mind. Root was not someone she favored- but she would be her only hope if all was lost with John and Carter. 

"I make no promises Harold." 

Root was leaning against a bookcase with her hair in loose curls framing her soft features, her hands hidden in the material of her black jumper. Her brown eyes widened when Delaney came to the door with her meal, half expecting it to be Harold that greeted her instead. "Well, you've looked worse before. I'm surprised you aren't asleep. Are you okay?" 

"Is this you actually showing genuine concern about me?" Delaney interjected sarcastically, setting the tray down on top of several stacks of books. "I'm impressed. I didn't know that was in your programming." Root smiled and sat down in the desk chair, tucking her legs beneath her as the two women peered at one another. 

"Regardless of what you think Delaney, I actually am not a monster." Her brow furrowed as Delaneys eyes changed colors again, this time to an ominous blue. "Remarkable. Your eyes change color with your emotions? That's not something you see everyday." 

"You're not helping your case." 

Root crossed her arms and huffed as Delaney began making her way towards the gate. "You're not usually this bitter and emotional. You military folk love to keep your emotions bottled up. What's got you so upset, Miss Chrysler-''

" _Reese._ " Delaney snapped back, whipping around and silently gritting her teeth to keep herself from lashing out. "My name is Delaney _Reese._ " 

"Oh. I get it now. Has your husbands number finally come up?" She lightly mused, bouncing on the heels of her feet as she evaded the angry wives penetrating blue gaze. "Did Mr. Reese catcall you to fix his broken heart, Delaney? Or did you just find it difficult to not fall for those devilishly handsome good looks?" 

She slammed the gate shut and stormed down the hall, turning a sharp corner at the closet where she and John kept spare clothing and their hidden arsenal- something they'd done after making the Library a safe haven for baby Leila. "Where are you going Delaney?!" Finch cried out, unable to catch up with the infuriated ex soldier as she stormed down the hall wearing a new red leather jacket, her hair still in a loose ponytail and her finger wrapped firmly around the trigger of her weapon. "You know you're not ready to face what's out there alone!" 

His words halted her in her steps, her eyelids slowly falling closed as tears pricked the back of her eyes. As always, Harold had the words that hit her hardest in her heart. How could she face HR's army when Shaw was looking after Lee and John was god knows where, trying to get a convicted criminal the justice he deserved?

"This, this is not something I do! I have never been the woman to be confined in a room with computers as my eyes. I'm _tired_ of sitting here and doing nothing. I'm the same woman who defied the odds in the middle of a war to save the man I love!" She said angrily, stomping her foot into the ground. "I-I have to try. I have to see what's out there. It's my _job._ " 

***

Driving. Endless turns and curves aimlessly around the heart of Manhattan, praying silent prayers just for reassurance that John wouldn't end up dead by the end of the night. 

It was nice to be able to clear her head for once, but it didn't stop the worry gnawing its way down to the roots of her heart. The breeze made her hair fall from its ponytail, resting in loose waves along her back as she waited for confirmation from John that he was safe. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

_My deepest condolences, Mrs Reese._

" _Finch? Is Delaney still there with you? I could use both of your help."_

She breathed a sigh of relief and kept her eyes focused on the road. Most of her routes were free of HRs eyes but it didn't mean that every criminal in this part of the city wasn't out on the prowl looking for John and Carters whereabouts. "I'm here John." She replied. "Not with Finch, but I'm here. Where are you?" 

" _The city morgue. Hopefully not my last stop. Can you come and pick us up?"_

"I'm on my bike driving aimlessly around the streets hoping that no one pays attention. So far it's working. Unless it's a one person pickup, the answer to that is no." 

John exhaled through his nose and ran his hands over his face. As if the night couldn't get any worse, now his new bride was aimlessly roaming the streets as their eyes and ears on the activities going on around the morgue. "I want you to continue to patrol the streets and give me intel on what you're seeing out there." He replied. "Also, don't die. That's the last thing I need." 

Delaney smiled widely and turned the corner to round around the block. "You people literally make me want to throw up. I'm not a child, I'm not fragile. I've had my fair share of hellish experiences. Stop treating me like a doll and start treating me like your equal. Otherwise I'll punch your pretty face in." 

"Yes ma'am, Officer Reese!" 

Just hearing him say her- _their_ last name made her heart melt in ways she didn't know were possible.

***

If there was anything that Joss Carter didn't react to, it was surprise. So there was no surprise when John began to tell her about his early days in the Marines, the woman named Mckenna who had died to keep Delaney safe, and how he'd fallen in love all over again when Delaney had come spiraling back into his mess of a life. 

"For the longest time after Del left the CIA, and than I found out about Jessicas death.. I wasn't sure if I would be able to let someone back in. And then I got into a fight with a couple of punks on a subway, and a cop detained me. You were the beginning of a chain of people who managed to break me apart. When Finch gave me the number of my best friend, my confidant.. I had never been so relieved to know I would get to see her face again. And when I saw her tears the night I was taken to Rikers, I realized I never wanted to be away from her. That I wanted to protect her until I died."

Joss smiled softly and supported her weight against the wall as John lifted his hand, revealing the ring he almost never took off. "I remember when I found her the first time. Zoe Morgan told me she was a serious alcoholic with a knack for hand to hand combat. I took her into custody after a particularly bad bar fight. That was a year before I found you, and let me tell you what I know. You two... complete each other. This world needs more men devoted to their wives. More women to love their husbands unconditionally." 

"John?" Delaney called out through the earpiece, breaking the conversation between John and Joss. "I hate to rain on your parade, but the HR crew has arrived outside. If you've got a plan, I'd start executing it." 

Delaney revved the engine of her motorcycle, analyzing the amount of HR cops that were still staked outside and the majority that had entered the building. There were two drivers and one armed gunman. She could confront them and take them out or distract them by means of her bike. 

_Recklessness is in my blood._

_"_ You have two people to think about now, stupid." Delaney seethed, momentarily stopping her bike in front of the three police cars. Their headlights reflected against the sleek black as her mind began to run, surveying all her viable options. Her heart nearly stopped inside her chest at the sound of multiple gunshots fired inside the morgue. "John? Are you alright?" 

" _Okay, I may or may not have made a rash decision and I'm also out of bullets. Can you come get me in the back of the building?"_

She exhaled and grinned widely, turning the bike around just as the drivers noticed a woman in their presence, but could not make out the identity as she vanished into the shadows. Delaney slowed to a gradual stop beside her husband behind the morgue- grinning widely as she gestured for him to sit behind her. "Ditch the bike." 

"Excuse me?!" Delaney shrieked. John wrenched her off the motorcycle and tossed her helmet into the trash can, dragging her up the street where there was more life; and many more ways to be arrested. "What are you _doing?_ Do you want to get us arrested?" 

"That's exactly what I want. I want to get us somewhere _safe._ " 

She stopped short in the shadows several feet behind John. He held his hands up in surrender as two of NYPD's honest cops surrounded him, immediately stripping John of the weapon he possessed. Luckily enough for her, her own gun had been stored in the saddlebags of her vehicle, which was still hidden in the alleyways behind them. 

"John, Delaney... I somehow managed to find two of NYPD's honest cops." Harold replied. "It's better to have you arrested then killed." 

Delaney watched helplessly as the cops took her husband into custody, aware it was only for a short amount of time. She ran her hands over her face and turned to the street, flagging down a taxi cab and climbing inside of it. "Finch, get my husband out of jail." She said wearily. "I'm shot up and literally about to collapse, and in desperate need of a shower. I need to sleep." 

"You did what John wanted tonight and didn't let your recklessness guide your judgment. Not to mention you let Miss Groves live. I consider that a accomplishment. Keep in mind Mrs. Reese," Her eyes lit up at the new name, one she found herself oddly familiar with. "I have seen you in action for a number of months now and am more then willing to convince your husband to let you out of your cage." 

"I'm growing to love you more and more the longer we work together." 

"Well... guilty is charged!" 

***

The sunlight was what woke her first; the glare against her open windows seared behind her eyelids as Delaney woke with a start, pulling her phone to her face to glance at the time.The last time she had slept in so late was during high school, before any of this chaos had even begun to commence. Everything that had happened with HR had completely drained her, and she was more then ready to get somewhat back to normal. 

_Two Missed Calls_

_Harry_

"Everything just feels so wrong without John." She said quietly, standing to her feet and wandering to the other side of the bed to rummage through her drawers. Her fingers brushed over the corners of an envelope-- still crisp and white with the words _READ WHEN YOU ARE MRS. JOHN REESE_ scrawled in cursive across the middle. It was one of the last living momentos she'd kept of Mckennas. She hadn't seen it since before she and John had gotten married. (AN: I imagine a legal marriage in a life like this one would not work, so let's say he asked and they were married. Simple!) 

_To The Best Of Women._

_Good Lord, that's such a cheesy opening. My bad. It's kind of hard not to be so sentimental when I'm literally watching you and John flirt shamelessly in the middle of the desert.. It's hard to believe that all of this started when we entered the Army. Even when we were children, I always knew I wanted to follow in the family footsteps. It just never crossed my mind that you had wanted to do the same._

_I've never believed in star crossed lovers. I was the one who constantly said love at first sight didn't exist. And then we're deployed, and you meet John, who is literally just pieces of a broken man struggling to hang on. You are the reason why he's put back together. The reason his eyes light up every time you talk, when you walk into a room, when you help calm the recruits with your melodic voice._

_If I had more time, this letter would be pages upon pages. But I really only need this one sheet to convey what I've been thinking. If you aren't married to John by now, shame on you because it's so obvious that you two adore each other. John is a man who carries his burdens to his grave- and he needs someone to assure him that he's not alone in this world._

_And you, my best of friends, need someone to assure you that you're not damaged goods. You are one of the most compassionate, eccentric and beautiful souls my own has ever gotten the privilege to know. I am so incredibly proud of you. Just do this one thing for me in case one day I'm not around anymore._

_Marry John Reese._

_Always tell him you love him._

_And have the most beautiful life together. Even with all the blood on your hands and sins you've both committed, it's the heroes that deserve to live with even the tiniest bit of peace._

"All my love, Mckenna Burns. Written a week before London Operation, 2009." Delaney whispered. running her fingers over the clear, legible handwriting. Mckenna had been her rock, someone who was constantly reminding her that she needed to realize that her own life was just as important as anyone elses. Someone who reminded her to freeze, relax, and _breathe._

Her phone buzzed on the bed, Finchs caller ID blinking on the main screen. The smallest smile turned her lips upward as she accepted the phone call and rested her phone on her shoulder, sliding the letter back into its envelope. "I was almost convinced you were in a sleep coma." Finch joked lightly. "Do you feel better?" 

"Much. I'm about to make my way to you. Did you rescue John from incarceration?" 

"As a matter of fact, they just released him. He's on his way out now, just filling some paperwork. Third Precinct. I'd get down here fast if I were you!" 

After quickly getting dressed and re-bandaging her graze, Delaney made her way over to the Library where Finch was waiting for her. The two of them drove to the 3rd Precinct, parking on the sidewalk and stepping out of the car as Joss turned her head to glance at Finch and an utterly ecstatic Delaney. 

"Your wife looks like she's gonna cry tears of joy. That may be your cue to go over there." 

"My number was up. I'm just glad I didn't spend it with a stranger."

Most of their conversation remained unheard as the two of them patiently waited beside the payphone, ready to take John back to the Loft and Carter return home to her teenage son. But just as Elias and Root had forseen, fate had a much crueler idea in mind. 

(YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS VIDEO DURING THE END OF THIS CHAPTER)

Her smile fell as Simmons emerged from the darkness, shouting several incoherent words before firing several bullets both into John and Carter. The two of them collapsed near each other on the pavement, leaving the now wounded and last standing member of HR to flee the scene. 

The world blurred out of focus; she could no longer see anything to the sides of her, only the slow, dramatized fall of two bodies onto pavement. Their ears rang from the proximity of the shots fired. Her head felt as if it were to split apart.

_My deepest condolences, Mrs. Reese._

The only sound in that frozen portion of time was her frantic heartbeat, mixed with the sounds of Johns whimpers from across the street. Her knees gave out first, collapsing in a heap as her hands went to cover her face; an purely anguished cry escaping from her lips. 

"No. No. NO!"

_Dead. Joss Carter is dead._

Scarlet red contrasted beautifully in the shades of black that consumed that Street. 

_Game over._

Finch ambled over to the tormented woman collapsed on the sidewalk, awkwardly positioning himself to rest both of his hands against her shoulders. Her pale cheeks were tear stained as Delaney lifted her head, her face veiled by a mirage of brown hair. She swallowed the bile threatening to rise in her throat and shuddered. Every single fiber of her being was on fire as she blankly stared at the scene in front of her. 

There was blood now. Alot of it. Crimson and sticky against her husbands hands as he had now maneuvered himself into a position where he could hold Joss' body in his arms. "Finch," Delaney whimpered, running her hands over her face. "What-What do I _do?_ "

For once, Harold Finch found himself at a loss for words. "You do what you do best, Delaney." He replied quietly, lightly squeezing her shoulder. It was a surprise when she found enough strength to lift her hand and rest it on top of his own. "Be his wife." 

_STAND UP._

Bracing herself against her knees, Delaney Chrysler Reese stood to her feet and brushed hair from her face, spreading her legs shoulder length apart to equally distribute her weight. The streets surrounding the scene were unusually silent. 

Until the phone had started ringing moments before she was dead.

_TAKE A DEEP BREATH._

_"Mckenna!" The fallen agent grimaced as she sunk to her knees, her eyes wide with shock as she pulled her reddened hands away from her stomach, now trembling from blood loss and the newfound fear coursing through her veins. McKenna was so close to death that she could feel its fingers taunting her to grip them._

Delaney tilted her head upward and inhaled the air- so very pungent with the smells and tastes of what New York had to offer, but blood more tangible than anything else. The weather had been considerably warm when she and Finch had arrived; the air around her had gone cold and the blood in her veins turned to ice. 

_WALK._

_She ran her fingers through the blondes matted hair, sobbing as she went to close her eyes. "You.. You were too important for the world to lose." Delaney cried, resting her forehead against Mckennas. "It shouldn't have been you."_

It shouldn't have been either of them. 

Her feet were on autopilot as she walked across the street, slowly lowering herself down beside John and wrapping her arms underneath his armpits. John immediately resisted, completely unaware of the sirens flashing in the distance- the incoming sound of freedom for the wounded. "She-" John sobbed, turning his body to hide his head deep in her chest. " _She's dead._ " 

Delaney felt her heart break as John wrapped himself around her shoulders, his nose ghosting the curve of her neck as the paramedics took Joss Carter away in a body bag. The mere thought of a woman like that being taken away in a body bag after all the effort she'd put into taking down the beast was enough to make her stomach turn. "We're fighting the good fight." She murmured, gasping as most of Johns weight fell onto her upper back and shoulders. "We fight for the ones who can't. We don't get to stop because others did. Joss.. she knew this was inevitable. We keep going." 

John let out a shuddering sob and allowed his head to fall to her shoulder. " _I-I love you.''_ He breathed. 

_STAND UP._

"We're fighting the good fight." Delaney found herself repeating the phrase like a mantra, each step agonizingly painful as she trudged across the street with John just barely holding on. " _Stay with me._ " 

_TAKE A DEEP BREATH._

"I'm so tired Del.." 

"I'm carrying all your weight John. Just like you've done for me, yeah?" Delaney questioned. His fingers linked with hers as she collapsed on the other side of the street, less then five hundred feet away from where Finch was waiting to take them to the Library where their emergency supplies, courtesy of Megan Tillman, were waiting. Her muscles were screaming for rest, but with every step she took it was easy to realize that the stickiness on her back and shoulders was from Johns gunshot wound. "Stay with me John Reese! We can't fall apart if the other isn't there to put us back together!" 

_WALK UNTIL YOUR FEET BLEED._

The two of them lifted John into the back seat and shut the doors simultaneously. Finch watched helplessly as she rested her head against the car door and then began to slam her hands into the glass. 

Over and over again until they were bruised, skinned and bleeding, scarlet dripping onto her jeans as Delaney silently walked to the other side of the vehicle. She positioned herself with John in between her legs, his head lolled on her shoulder as she applied pressure to his wound, hiding her face in his hair as John fell unconscious.

Then she began to cry. 

There were new feelings burrowing themselves deep into her heart; one she hadn't felt since the tragedy in London, or the night she'd spent in the hospital slowly watching the light fade from her mothers dying eyes. Bitterness. Hatred. Guilt.

 _"_ You said you'd burn the heart out of me." Delaney snarled, lifting her phone to her line of sight to gaze at the photo of Simmons inside her encrypted HR file. She cringed at her appearance through the glass; most of her light makeup had been cried off, and there was blood all over her shirt and pants. Her hair was matted, carelessly thrown back behind her shoulders. Cheekbones gaunt, eyes lifeless.

She looked like the shell of a woman who had simply lost too much.

"What you failed to realize is that this heart was already burnt out. You asked for the Devil and got me. It's time to run or fight, Simmons. You don't have a clue what's coming for you."

_Let the good die young and brave_

_Let no sacrifice be in vain_

_Let no blood be shed on accounts of vengeance_

_Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord._

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 


	40. The Devil's Share

_"This is just the side of heaven you have yet to reach." Mckenna replied, throwing her blonde hair into a ponytail as her best friend stared at her, completely dumbfounded. She didn't know if she was hallucinating her best friend in front of her or if it was just another cruel dream she was wishing were real. "Did you give up on John?"_

_"Oh no, John very much gave up on me. Apparently a wedding ring has no significance to him." Delaney replied bitterly. Mckenna flashed her that signature beaming smile before the scene changed- to where they used to bunk with one another in their barracks in Afghanistan. She'd considered that her safe place for years. Now it was just another memory._

_"Wake up." Mckenna responded, much softer at first. As the brunette continued to stare in wonder, the blonde woman stepped forward and threw her hand back against her cheek. "Do you not hear me, Reese? I said WAKE UP!"_

\----------

Following The Loss of Joss Carter

The days following the loss of such a dear friend were the hardest in her career. She had been convinced everything was over when Mckenna had taken the bullet for her in London, but to John everything had ended when Simmons had killed Carter in cold blood. 

She had remained by his bedside almost the entire time- never leaving unless she had to do so. Her hair was matted with blood, her fingers aching from being curled around Johns hand so long. Pulling herself back from the brink once had been hard enough, but doing it twice was nearly impossible and the only thing keeping her going was the man in the bed who had practically given up on her. 

John Reese was gone. 

" _You can't just walk out on me, John! That wedding band on your finger? That ring on your opposite hand? Those aren't just pieces of jewelry! THEY MEAN SOMETHING!"_

He had been bleeding profusely the minute he got out of the bed, having busted most of his stitches when he'd stood to his feet. Her words had been useless in that moment because when John Reese was out for revenge, revenge was given and nothing was going to stop him. 

_John whipped around as her hands wrapped around his wrists and pushed her against the wall, his blue eyes lit up with anger as he exhaled sharply through his nose. Her eyes flickered up to his only for a brief moment, and a broken sob burst past her lips. "Simmons is going to die. I'm going to hunt him down, and I'm going to kill him."_

_"No. You go out there, you're going to get yourself killed."_

Most of her available time since John had vanished was spent training in the gym, and a follow up conversation with Root after an exasperatingly long shower in the only bedroom the Library had. It had taken several attempts, but the two women had gotten along remarkably well, and she was the only one Delaney felt comfortable talking to about her loss of sanity. 

"You're a married woman who was abandoned by her hellbent husband. When John needs you, you'll know when to come out of your temporary hiding hole. The fact of the matter is, you have to be prepared for when you do leave it cause once you're out, there's no going back." 

Delaney found herself back in the Library with a bottle of tequila while casually lounging over the desk chair as she listened to Sameen and Finch drone on about the amount of time they had to find John in his current condition. "I know this is our only option Miss Shaw, but I just want to make sure we're prepared for what may happen." 

Shaws ominous brown eyes flickered down to her own. "I'm in. Are you?" 

She lazily lifted the bottle, gasping as Harold took it from her and proceeded to scurry towards the nearest sink to dispose of the remaining liquid. "Sure. Let me get rid of the tequila stink, make myself appear to look like I'm not actually falling apart- and then we can save my husband." Delaney slurred, performing a mock bow as she held her head and vanished into the bathroom.

_"Wake up!"_

A sharp gasp broke past her lips as Delaney shot upright in the shower, rivulets of hot water cascading down her back. How long had she been dreaming? 

" _He is DYING while you're just... sitting here! How pathetic is that?"_

Truly pathetic indeed. 

"Why is it when I'm in my darkest hole, your stupid ghost is comin' back to haunt me?" Delaney muttered, grunting Mckennas name as she stepped out of the shower and changed into fresh clothes, opening the door to find Shaw staring back at her with a giant smirk on her face. "I'm so not in the mood for you. Just do me a favor, and don't talk." 

"You're the one who reeks of tequila." 

She pushed past Shaw and went to grab her gun, cursing when she remembered that John had forced her to leave behind her motorcycle and weapon when he'd been arrested the day before Carter died. "It's a good thing my husband left me." Delaney remarked, attempting to make a joke out of the situation before the realization finally hit her. 

John had left her. He had just picked up his things, and _ran._

" _That's what he's best at, isn't it?"_

Fusco was waiting outside when they emerged, beaming as he reached into the trunk and pulled out a evidence bag with her weapon inside of it. "Your bike is in the alleyway. Took me a ton of effort to get it in there, and I pulled some strings for your gun. Not fair to you that John gets to have all the fun." 

Lionel let out a gasp as she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. It was seldom rare for people to do affectionate gestures for her, and to have Lionel give her back what was rightfully hers lifted her spirits more then she realized it would. "Thanks Lionel." Delaney replied, sliding on her helmet and revving the engine. "I owe you one." 

"You owe me like twenty now! I've been keeping tabs!" 

Later on that night the five of them were driving to where Root claimed Johns last coordinates were. She simultaneously turned off her headlights at the same time Sameen did, following their car into another alleyway before parking her bike and turning her hips to get off of it. "Tell me why we're listening to the crazy chick who tried to kidnap Glasses?" 

Her expression turned to one of annoyance as she reached out and grabbed Roots hand. "For the love of God, just _don't_." 

"In your right pocket you have eighty five cents from your morning coffee run." She threw her hands up in surrender and turned sharply on her heels back towards Harold who was doing his utmost best to not smirk at her defeat. "In your apartment there's an old photo of your father taken at the Franklin Park Zoo as a child with a lion cub. You know what that cubs name was? _Lionel._ " 

Fusco peered around Roots shoulder to gaze dumbstruck at Delaney. "You have _how_ many opportunities to knock some sense into this one and decided not to? Did you gain more self control since the last time we spoke?" 

"I'm a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, my dear Fusco." She proclaimed and clasped him on the shoulder. ''Am I ashamed of it? No. My recklessness will pay off in the end, but I'm not wasting it on a nutcase like her. Besides, she's insane enough to listen to me ramble about John all the time. She's useful."

Root pursed her lips and turned to Shaw. "Can I have a gun now?" 

"What's with your poor listening skills? _No way._ " 

"Then you and the other assassin here should probably turn around." She replied. The two ex-government agents turned perfectly in sync and capped both of the men behind them- dressed all in black and wearing jackets labeled _US FEDERAL MARSHALLS._

"Well.." Delaney muttered, kicking the groaning man in the foot only for him to cry out louder as he attempted to clutch both of his knees. "I've done worse things then shoot a Federal Agent. How about you Shaw?" Sameen nodded in agreement and followed Root into the building parallel from the Motel. ''What are we doing in here Root?" 

"Wait for the light at twelve o clock." She said softly, hunching over to gaze through the windowpane. The brunette sighed in awe as the lights from the room turned on and the inhabitant appeared in her line of sight - Alonzo Quinn. "Alonzo Quinn. The building has two main exits, no emergency exits. 12 US Marshalls guard the building plus our friend over there who was scouting the perimeter of the building we are now inside. Air support is 10 minutes out... While the Russians aren't here yet, they will be soon." 

She felt her stomach clench as their small group went silent as they each scanned the vacant street, almost as if they were waiting for a sign. "What kind of stunt would John pull to get peoples attention, Delaney?" Shaw remarked. "I mean, I know he goes all out on just about anything.. but this?"

"A car fire. Perfect diversion to get inside enemy inhabited territory. And if I know him well enough, that car in front of us will explode in 3..2..1.." Her eyes lit up as the vehicle burst into bright orange flames, drawing the remaining Marshalls out into the street to survey the damage. "He's getting predictable. We should head over there now." 

"Shaw, you and Del lead us inside. We'll take the tail." 

The two women each pulled out their weapons and quietly lead the group into the street by the front entrance of the hotel. Shaw watched from the corner of her eye as Delaney easily took down both Marshalls attempting to break back into the locked doors; calm, collected, emotionless. "You've done your homework, kid." She said proudly. "All emotions turned off, got the job done. You can color me impressed." 

"I don't mean to be the person who kills your parade, but I'm older than you. Alot older, and I also happen to be married. So if _anyone_ is a kid-" Shaw rose an eyebrow as she lifted her head to look at the other woman who happened to be several inches taller then her. "It's you." 

"That makes me feel special." 

"Shut up. Let's go find my husband." 

Root snickered quietly beneath her breath and held her hand out expectantly. "Can I have a gun _now?_ " She persisted, motioning for a weapon. Delaney rolled her eyes and gave a confirmed nod to Shaw, who only huffed in annoyance and handed over one of the spares from the Marshalls. "Can I have a second?" 

"Two guns? That's kind of lame. If you're ready, let's head up." 

She tilted her head and began walking towards the door with both weapons aimed for the glass. "Too late!" 

Delaney felt a chill run through her body as Finch reached out and lightly squeezed her hand, almost as if to reassure her that she wasn't the only one deeply concerned for Johns wellbeing. "If and _when_ we find John, he's going to be okay." She inhaled sharply as a wave of tears pricked her eyes, causing her to shut them tightly as her ears rang from the gunfire. "You're going to make him okay." 

"That would be reassuring if I was actually okay myself, but I'm not." She said bitterly, flicking the safety back off on her weapon as the trio turned away from their masterful work on the Russians outside the hotel. "Root can watch the front. The rest of you come with me. We're nearly out of time." 

_When did I become so numb?_

_When did I lose myself?_

It was remarkable how the span of a day could literally turn someones life into complete chaos. John had made a promise to himself that he would be the husband that Delaney deserved, the friend Harold needed, the partner Shaw relied on. And now here he stood, covered in his own blood and barely able to breathe.

He couldn't take his eyes off the ring that still was on his finger. 

_When did I become so cold?_

_When did I become ashamed?_

His blood stained fingers ripped off the paper that held Simmons exit strategy, his index curled around the trigger of his weapon. It was only a matter of time before Harold and Root and Delaney and Shaw figured out where he was and came to stop him. "Times up." John stated blankly, lifting the weapon in line with Quinns head. 

The door behind him opened and that angelic, heartbroken voice was the one who spoke out first. " _John."_

_Oh, where's the person that I know?_

_They must have left_

_They must have left with all my faith_

Finch lightly grabbed her waist and motioned for her to step forward to where she was standing directly behind John. Her hands trembled violently as she exhaled, sneaking her fingers beneath his coat to rest on his hips. Even in the Army together, her tenderness and compassion had always been something to pull him back from the brink of wherever he was teetering on the edge of falling forever. "You know what Joss sacrificed to bring this man down on her terms? Her legal terms."

_I'm paralyzed_

_Where are my feelings?_

_I no longer feel things_

A touch that had once been so comforting that now had no.. sentiment behind it. He was so focused on ending Alonzo Quinn that it was almost as if her touch was just phantom touch. "Everything." 

_I know I should_

_I'm paralyzed_

"Exactly. So if you're gonna kill Mr. Quinn, don't imagine you'll be doing it in her name." Finch replied softly, his eyes carefully watching as Delaney rested her chin on his shoulder, her fingers slowly wrapping around his wrist as she whispered in his ear. "That's not what she would have wanted." 

"I should have killed him in the first place." John said impassively, his eyes pricked with tears as they finally registered her hands on his skin, her thumb rubbing circles on the delicate inner skin of his wrist. She was there. Even after he'd left her behind and refused to acknowledge the fact that he had done it for _revenge,_ Delaney Reese had still come back to him. 

Her heart crawled into her throat as his weight gave out, his back firmly pressed against her chest as she wrapped her arms around his chest but continued to whisper in his ear. "That's not our purpose. We save lives. _You_ save lives." John laughed bitterly and tilted his head upward just enough to meet the two intoxicating amber eyes staring down at him. 

"Do you hear what he's telling you John?" Delaney whispered, forcing a meager smile as she unlocked her arms and lifted a hand to his face. "Don't relinquish the legacy you've made as a hero by letting your demons win. That's not what Joss wanted for you and it's definitely not what McKenna wanted for you either." 

"Not all of them." 

"John, sweetheart... You're dying." His eyes widened in realization as Finch and Delaney inched themselves closer to him. "Please let us help you." 

" _No._ " 

She half expected a gunshot to ring out and Quinn to be dead, but was instead met with an empty clicking noise as Johns blood covered weapon fell to the ground, and his body turned to her. "Let's get him out of here." Delaney and Shaw immediately stood up and wrapped their arms around his waist as support, his own flung over their shoulders as Harold lead the way out of the hotel. "I'll stay here until the Feds take this piece of junk back into custody." 

Johns breathing was shallow and quick as the two women made a hasty retreat back to their car, where Shaw instructed Delaney to lock her knees and allow him to rest in between her legs with his head on her shoulder as she attempted to patch him up. He angled his head to gaze up at his wive's pale, tear stained face as she reran her finger through his hair. " _Hey._ " He whispered, catching her attention and drawing it away from Shaw. " _I love you._ " 

"I love you too. Go to sleep." The tension in his body visibly deflated as John went unconscious in her arms, his fingers still linked with hers. She took the few scarce moments they had before arriving to the safehouse to bury her face in his shoulder, inhaling that musky scent that reminded her so much of home. 

They situated John in the spare hospital bed beside the window, Shaw giving her an extended amount of time to clean him up as she retrieved blood from Manhattan General to replace the units he had lost. She straddled the lower half of his body and carefully removed his shirt and pants, tossing them into the garbage can as Delaney ran a warm sponge over his torso. He was dozing in and out, making sarcastic jokes about their wedding night the two of them had never had before he eventually would pass out. 

"You're going to be alright, Romeo." Del whispered, placing a feathery light kiss just above his heart as she checked for any more dried blood on his upper extremities. "We've been through worse." His eyes fluttered open just enough to lift his hand and tangle his fingers in her hair to bring her lips to his own. A content sigh escaped her mouth, giving John the advantage to thoroughly explore. "You were _dying_ an hour ago and now you want to sleep with me?" 

"A husbands got dreams. I also haven't fulfilled your wedding night yet either." He said huskily, sending shivers down her spine as she reached for the shirt and pants on the sidetable. John was still so incredibly weak, leaning against her for support as she attempted to help him shimmy on his sweatpants. "Thank you." 

"I'm your wife, John. This kind of thing happens to us all the time and I know you'd do the same for me." He lifted his arms as she tilted her head to admire his chiseled, pale features while slipping his teeshirt over his head. She managed a smile and rested her hands against his face, allowing her forehead to lay on his own. "We're just two burnt out stars making their way back into a constellation. A different chapter, a whole new beginning and a legacy to fulfill. I'm not ready to lay what could be the greatest story one has ever heard to rest. We aren't dead yet." 

His lungs deflated at the sheer meaning behind her words - two extraordinary people who had come together through the tragedies they'd been through, pushed through them, and despite the underlying emotions from what had happened, they'd continued to save the lives of the people of New York City. 

"No." He replied weakly, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as Delaney hooked him into IVs and attached the heart monitor to his chest, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in the empty room. "We're not burnt out. You're the North Star... I just have to follow you to find my home."


	41. Run Or Follow

She knew the moment he woke up again that John had no intentions on remaining in New York. He almost regarded her as if she were another ghost of his past -- one he could touch and taste and hear but had no plans of ever speaking to. So when he packed up his bags and left for an untold destination, it was almost habitual for her to plant a bug on his phone. 

"I was almost sure you were going to go after John, Delaney." Finch said quietly. She was sitting on the edge of his hospital bed with her fingers sunk into one of his oldest materials of clothing, a flannel he'd worn so many times since the military that once she had found it, she'd kept it for herself. "Why didn't you follow him?" 

"Johns coping mechanism is to run away from all his problems. It's just what he does and there's nothing I can do to change it." She replied blankly. "Give me a few days to comprehend all that's happened and then I'll take Fusco with me." Finch pressed his lips together as he stood to his feet, gripping her wrist just as she made a move to walk out the door of the Library. "You should know by now that confining me to the Library is the _worst_ way to make me deal with my problems." 

"You keep yourself together with hope and memories." He replied softly. "I just wanted to tell you that it's okay to fall apart every once in a while. No one is indestructible; least of all the woman who's lost almost all the people she loves."

After five days of radio silence from both Sameen and Harold, she packed her bag and put out a call to Lionel about a road trip to Colorado. It was a strenuous 27 hour drive, but Fusco always had a topic for conversation and had enough common courtesy to stay silent as he drove while allowing her to sleep. 

" _I can't believe you two didn't just fly to Colorado. You and I both know where Johns going.'' Mckenna muttered, propping her feet up against the dashboard as Delaney curled up in the backseat of the truck she'd rented. "That god forsaken bar is the place where he solves all his problems. No wonder you two got married given the common alcohol abuse between you both. Lose a lover? Have a beer! Tragedy strikes? Drink yourself to death!"_

"Hey genius," Lionel said softly, lightly resting his hand against her knee to shake her from her sleep. "We just pulled up outside the bar you put into your phone. Where do you want me to park?" She groaned softly as she leaned forward to peer out the front windshield despite the glare from the sun. 

"Back lot, second space from the left. He's going to be pissed that we're even here in the first place." Delaney replied, tossing the Detective a baseball cap as she managed to pull out her signature red fedora that had been stored beneath the back seat. "What kind of alcohol does a Detective like?" 

Lionel casually wrapped an arm around her shoulder as the two of them walked around the shanty building to the front door of the bar. It had been years since she'd stepped foot inside the place, but it was almost a guarantee that John had fled here. "I don't drink when I'm on the job, but you do." One of the waiters sat the two of them down at a table, laying menus down in front of them before he scurried off to fetch their drinks. "Do you see him?"

She slowly tilted her fedora upward to get a clearer line of sight-- almost immediately recognizing Johns muscular figure hunched over at the bar. His hair was neatly styled back to where you could just see the redness around his cerulean blue eyes, his lips curled over the rim of another glass of whiskey. "Whiskey." She whispered. "He's drinking whiskey. It's like a drug for him, it's what he takes when he's depressed. Almost as if he has a death wish." 

John slowly turned around in his stool and stood to his feet, his boots smacking the floorboards as his eyes settled on a thicker man sitting across from a beautiful woman. His fingers curled around the rim of the ballcap as he pulled it off, only to find Lionel Fusco staring back at him. "Hello Lionel. Did Finch send you?" He questioned. His eyes flickered to the woman in front of him before he knelt down and flicked up the tip of her fedora to get a clearer look at her eyes. "I should've known you'd be the one to lead him here. I told you to stay in New York." 

A soft sigh left her lips as Delaney leaned forward on her elbows and mockingly flicked the side of Johns nose. "I used to occupy this bar with you on many nights when I'd come visit you on leave. This place is a hole for you-- You always run here when you can't face your problems head on. Not to mention the fact I _unlike_ you take my wedding vows very seriously." 

Johns eyes narrowed as he tossed Fusco's hat back onto the table. "Go home Detective, and take her with you." Lionel watched closely as she stormed after John as he sat at the bar, taking her place at his left side. He wanted to give her an opportunity to get into his head before he pulled out the Good Cop, Bad Cop routine. "Why do you _never_ listen?" 

"I think you already know the answer to that. Don't act like I haven't been going through life with you for the past twenty some years. It's kind of disgusting." She replied bitterly, waving her hand at the bartender. "Club soda." John turned to the side and removed her fedora, his fingers digging into the material as she parted her hair to meet his eyes. "I'm not bailing you out of this one, John. You could've stayed in New York with me. We could've run away _together_ and gone on the wedding night we never had, but you opted to leave not just your best friend behind, but your wife. That's the secondtime you've left me. Do you not get how much that stings?" 

"I thought you'd be used to the pain by now." 

Her heart sank as Delaney leaned backward, eyes wide as his words sank into her skin. After London, being rescued by Joss and reforming herself into a woman she could actually stand; to hear the love of her life bluntly admit that she should be content with the fact that he'd willingly abandoned her _twice._

"No one gets used to pain." She growled, snatching the whiskey glass from his hand and shattering it on the floor. His eyes snapped over to her as her fingers gripped the lapels of his leather jacket and jarred him roughly. "You just make room for it." 

John watched somberly as her figure retreated, leaving him alone at the bar with Lionel. Despite the growing darkness outside, he could clearly see her form lounging in the bed of the truck she'd driven across the country to rescue him from himself. "You think you're the only one that's hurting? My partner got shot." Both men glanced upward to the bulletin board above the window plastered with old photos-- one of which bared a remarkable resemblance to John. "When I was driving here with your girl, I saw the sign for the base five miles back. Had she been awake I would've asked her more about it, but I figured it's where you were stationed." 

He sighed deeply and allowed his gaze to go back out the window. "My dad was here before he was deployed to Vietnam. Did four tours.. He was a bonafide war hero."

"Was he killed in action?" Lionel replied. 

"No. At the Refinery where he worked, hadn't even been home two months. I wish he would've gotten to meet Delaney. Would've loved the fact I married a woman like that." 

Fusco couldn't help the smirk that spread across his lips as John ran his hands over his face. "This woman-- This _remarkable_ woman waited five days before she ran across the country after you. Left behind Shaw with Finch if they got a number, rented a truck, and drove all the way here to bring you back home because she has faith in you." 

"What's your point?" 

"What does what you said about your dad have anything to do with Carter?" 

John jabbed a thumb back in the direction of his wife. "Nothing. It just proves that no matter what we do, bad things are still going to happen. You want to know why I've been acting like this and abandoned my wife _twice?_ Because of this. I can't protect her from everything which is all I've been trying to do. If she were to die too... I don't know what I would be able to do with myself. One less irrelevant." 

"How can you say that? You saved lots of people, including me! Do you see that woman out there?! You two saved each other! Are you saying all of that was pointless?!" John vacantly stared into the night and took another casual sip of whiskey which only further fueled Fuscos anger at his blatant ignorance. "Alright, let's go." 

"I'm not leaving." 

"I wasn't talking about leaving." 

Delaney turned her head from where she sat on the toolbox in the bed of the truck, capping the water she'd stored inside as her eyes fell on John, who was now standing to his feet as Fusco roughly pushed him out the door. Under different circumstances, she would've gone into the fight immediately to break it up, but a part of her knew that this was a piece of the process to his recovery. 

Before she could even put a word in edge wise, red and blue lights flashed against the outer walls of the bar as one of the cops pulled into the back parking lot. "You want to know what this is boys?" She mused, jumping off the tailgate despite her sopping wet clothes as one of the cops moved to cuff John. "Karma. Oh _glorious_ Karma." 

/////////////////////////////

She found herself outside Seven Falls Police Department the next morning, refreshed after a decent nights sleep in the small town hotel. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, the deep brown clashing well with her newest red leather jacket as she stepped inside to greet the desk sergeant. "G'morning officer. Couple of your men detained two older gentleman brawling behind the bar last night? I'm here to bail one of them out." 

The desk sergeant glanced up and down at her once before removing a set of keys from the nail beside his desk. "Cells in the back. Hand them over to the cop closest to you when you're done." Delaney flashed a smile before curving around the mass of desks and making her way back to the cells where John and Fusco were. 

"That was very stupid of you Lionel. You should know better then to hit me." John stated matter-of-factly. She quirked an eyebrow and jingled the keys, causing both men to turn in her direction as Delaney leaned most of her weight against the bars. 

"It wasn't stupid at all, John. In fact it may have been just what you needed to knock some sense into your head." His eyes never left her own as she fit the key into the lock and casually pulled it open to allow Fusco to slip through. "I mentioned your status to the CO here, Fusco. They've let you go on the account that you're a NYPD cop." She handed the keys over to Lionel and stepped inside the cell, shutting the door behind her. "But you? I've got a bone to pick with you still. Lionel, you can stay in here or you can go until the two of you both have official clearance to leave. Your choice."

Fusco shrugged and tossed the keys onto the desk before he stepped back inside the cell. "I kind of want to see how this plays out. By all means," He gestured to John who was now inches away from her, only one step to fill the gap between the two of them. "Are you going to kiss and make up or-"

Her fist launched outward almost out of nowhere and collided with Johns jaw, sending him stumbling into the concrete walls. Fusco couldn't help but be slightly amused that such a thin woman could pack so much punch, and willingly take it out on her own husband to pull him back from the brink. "I want to go _home_ John!" She snapped, ducking low beneath his fist as he aimed for anywhere other then her face. "Home is in New York. In our loft. _With you._ " 

His steps faltered if only for a moment before he gripped her upper arms and slammed her body into the wall-- hard enough to jar her but not hard enough to injure her. "Tell me exactly, what is it we were doing again?" John questioned, his nostrils flaring as she thought of every way possible to escape his steel grip. 

"We were helping people! You and I, Shaw and Root, Finch, Joss and Fusco. We were saving them so they could get home to their loved ones." Delaney slowly tilted her head as she wrenched her arm from Johns grip, slowly bringing her hand to cup the side of his face. John found the anger in his body receding when she leaned in to rest her forehead against his own. 

If it wasn't clear to anyone then, it was clearer then day now. John Reese had a weakness-- and Delaney Reese was it. 

"After London... You finally realized that not all of them can be saved. McKenna.. She was the main targeted number to be saved and she still died. You were the one who made it. All we've been doing is delaying the inevitable, Del. We were never helping people." 

Delaney heaved an angry sigh and slid out underneath Johns arm, spinning around on her foot to sit on the floor between him and Fusco. Her fingers played with the silver pendant fastened around her neck as she intently listened to what Fusco now had to say for John. "We were never going to win. That doesn't mean you stop fighting." 

"No." John laughed bitterly under his breath as his fingers unconsciously drifted to the ends of her hair where they began to run through the thick brown strands. "I've learned my lesson. We save someone? They'll still lose. Just tomorrow and not today. I know that now. As much as I know that you'll probably go back to being a corrupt piece of garbage. Water finds its level." 

_"Dang, he's bitter." Mckenna muttered, kneeling down beside where Delaney already sat. "I don't think I've seen John so angry before. It's kind of terrifying to imagine what living in that muddled head of his must feel like."_

"You know what? She was the best of us. Better then me and definitely better then you! And she got killed. Where I come from, that doesn't mean you just give up." Fusco stood to his feet and extended his hand to Delaney who was now leaning against Johns knee as he continued to play with the ends of her hair. "Hey Skip, we're done here!" 

One of the cops emerged and unlocked the door of the cell, vanishing from sight as Lionel slid it open completely. Delaney moved to stand to her feet but only found John leaning outward to grip her hand in his own. "Don't go." He murmured lowly, just loud enough for the two of them to hear. "Not yet." 

"He tried, and so did I. What else do you expect me to do?"

" _Stay.''_

She so badly wanted to stay in that cell with him, but the only way he was going to come to his sense was if he faced this part on his own and gave himself time to think. "I-I can't." Delaney replied, inhaling sharply as a wave of tears pricked her eyes. "I drove here with Fusco and I intend on going back to New York to fulfill my legacy. I'll tell him we tried." 

"Tell Finch thanks for the job."

"I haven't heard from Glasses since last night." Fusco replied. "That's not like him. He probably needs our help, but there's no point right? I mean, we'd just be delaying the inevitable." John waited patiently for the two of them to leave but instead found Delaney in between his knees, both of her hands coming to rest against the growing scruff on his face.

_You feel so safe inside_

_The walls you've fortified_

John rested his head against her shoulder and shuddered, his grip on her hips tightening as he suppressed the urge to sob. Every time he made a mistake or screwed up in the most irreparable way possible, she was always granting him second chances that he didn't deserve. "You shouldn't grant me all these seconds chances. I'm a terrible husband to you. Why do you keep coming back?" 

"Because I love you, John. I'm unbelievably pissed at you right now, but it doesn't change the fact that I love you and have loved you since we served together." She stood to her feet and lightly raked her fingers through his hair. "Now I'm going to walk out that door after Fusco, and we're going to go back to New York. You can run if you want, but I don't think you will this time. Run or come with me, John Reese. You don't have much of a choice in the matter."

_It's down you go_

_When your walls fall like Jericho_

He ran, and he ran after her.


	42. 4C

"This one." Peter Collier murmured, pointing to the surveillance footage from the bank as his second in command began the drive back to their destination. The woman on his right peered at the footage as he zoomed in-- only to look at the other woman who had rescued Claypool. She was tall and thin but carried herself well, almost as if she was former military. And she stuck remarkably close to The Man In The Suit. "Who is she?" 

"A weak spot for Harold and The Man In The Suit." The woman replied, lowering her sunglasses. "Married to one of them, but I'm not sure which one. We can figure that out later, but if we're gonna get to the root of the decimation to the Machine and Samaritan, who better to target then the woman they both love?" 

Peter held up his hand as he shut the computer off and leaned back against the wall of the van. "The time is not right yet. We will retrieve her, but only when we are ready. She will be in for a rude awakening once she is in our grasps." 

////////////////////////

John considered his options as he left the Library for what was to be the last time, his destination now set on the Loft where his wife was surely waiting for him. He could simply up and leave given that he'd done it twice now, but it would only push her further away then he already had. If his heart could take it, the other option was to trek through his grief hidden away in the Loft with no one else but the woman he loved to get him through it. 

" _Run or come. I'm not helping you out of this one."_

He paused outside the door and jingled the key in the lock, peering through the open doorway as it creaked open. Delaney was curled up on the windowsill wearing one of his favorite shirts, her sweatpants loosely hanging on her hips while she casually sipped on her second cup of coffee. "I came to return something to you." He said quietly, twisting the ring she'd bought him years ago off his finger. He couldn't find it in him to take off the actual wedding band. "I'm coming back for it, Del-"

"You lost the right to call me that." She snapped, her fingers curling around the ring as she tucked it in her breast pocket. "You know, if you _let_ me that I could help you. That's the problem. You won't accept my help, so now I have to watch you go off to God knows where and leave me here alone. That's not fair." 

He could clearly see that she wasn't going to be forgiving him anytime soon. "This is one of those times where I just need space." John reassured, lightly linking their fingers and pulling her to her feet. "I'm going to find a nice quiet place in Europe where you and I can finally have the wedding night we never got... Somewhere to start over." 

She inhaled deeply and settled her forehead against his, her fingers working on removing his leather jacket. Johns breathing hitched as it fell carelessly to the floor before Delaney stood on her tiptoes to run her fingers through his hair. "John, you know there's nothing I want more in this world then for us to be able to grow old together. But that's just not _plausible_ for people with lives like we live. I-I built something for myself with Finch and Sameen. I have people I _trust._ Do you remember how long it took me to be able to trust anyone? I don't want to destroy all of that now just to run away from tragedy. I've grown so much as a person since I came back to New York. I don't run away from my problems.. I face them head on." 

"That's not how I cope." He whispered softly, tilting her head to the side to give himself better access to her neck. A contented sigh escaped her lips as John pulled her flush against his body, her hands venturing beneath his grey teeshirt to trace the lines and curvatures of his toned muscles while he mapped her skin with his lips. "I'm not abandoning you, Juliet. I'll be coming home before you know it. You.. You are too good and too pure for a man like me-"

"I'm not a saint. I'm a sinner who knows what she's done and has tried everything in her power to repent of the decisions I've made. My emotions used to run my life, but not anymore." She slowly peeled herself away from him and backed towards the window. "Everything that happens from here on is your choice. I'm not going to dictate what you do, but I'm going to tell you what I think you should do."

"Which is?"

It pained her more then she realized to have to say the words aloud, but she mustered up the courage and finally spoke. "Go. Go somewhere in the world and give yourself a break. Learn how to appreciate the small things- Things like the smell of the ocean and the flicker of sunlight through glass. Listen to classical music, read a book. Just give yourself time to _live."_

His eyes glassed over with tears as she softly began to hum a lullaby her mother had once sang to her beneath her breath. "What-What about you?" Her amber colored eyes met his own as Delaney dug beneath the bed to pull out her ballet shoes that she hadn't worn since coming back from London. It had been nearly fifteen years since her last lesson, but the precision of the dance itself never left her feet. It was a large part of the reason why she was so graceful to begin with. "What will you do?" 

Delaney swallowed thickly and tied her hair back into a tighter bun, closing the distance between the two of them to tuck his cellphone into his jacket pocket. "Wait for you to get back." She whispered, lifting her eyes to meet his own as he pressed his lips against her forehead. "Dance, cook, sing, take a break from the chaos of our life and learn to live myself."

"Harold was right." John called out, taking small steps to pace himself closer to the door.

"About what?"

"You are the best of wives and best of women." 

It was several days before she heard from him again, this time in a text message as he was boarding a flight to what she assumed was somewhere in Europe. He wouldn't tell her where. 

**_From: Romeo_ **

It took me a while to realize why I felt so.. lonely. Then I realized you're not on this flight with me.

I love you.

That was the only communication between the two of them until Harold called her when she was in the middle of sparring with Shaw at the gym just down the street from the Loft. "Duck!" Shaw snapped, smirking as the other brunette ducked beneath her arm and kicked her legs out from beneath her. "Are you going to get your phone? It's annoying me."

Delaney huffed and wiped the sweat beading on the crown of her head with the back of her hand, jogging over to her duffel bag where her phone was vibrating. "Harold, I'm kind of in the middle of something here. Do you need me?" Harold sat up straight in his seat at the sound of her voice, completely baffled that she'd answered the phone to begin with. 

"My apologies Del, I was under the impression you were home-"

"Shaw asked if I could come do more hand to hand training with her. I'm at the gym down the street from our apartment." Delaney replied suspiciously. "You found John, didn't you?" 

"More like he found me. He seems very bitter but called me thirty minutes ago on his flight. I think The Machine put him on the plane." 

She snickered beneath her breath and leaned against the nearest wall. "I don't know whether or not to feel bad for him or find that incredibly ironic. I assume he's declined the mission and bluntly told you that your Machine was basically the villain?" 

"You'd be correct in that matter." 

"Give me twenty minutes. I'll be over there for backup technological help and the moral voice of reason." Shaw chewed on her bottom lip as she tossed her phone back onto her bag. Sameen was Delaneys closest friend besides Harold, and even though she wasn't particularly gifted in the area of intimacy, it was quite clear that she was still bitter at the fact that John had up and left her alone. "You're giving me that look again." 

"What look?" 

"Like I'm a helpless puppy without dark and stormy husband to protect me." She replied. "I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Harold. I love John with all my heart and I would move mountains to give him the life he wants, but this is a choice he made solely on his own. I have hope he's coming back to me but I'm not in any rush for him to get here. He wants to be bitter? He'll push through it. At the end of any altercation it's always the same. He's the one saving people." 

The two of them packed up and went to the Library thirty minutes later, Shaw leaving the two of them behind to pursue her lead on the number with John on the plane. Finch pulled out her chair and motioned for to sit down in it as he began brewing her favorite green tea he always kept on hand. "He'll call back again shortly. I need to speak to Shaw privately about something regarding this number, but until I come back you can run point. Sound good?" 

"Big brother Harold trying to fix my marriage?" She mused, wiggling her eyebrows as blush spread across his pale cheeks. "Of course it sounds good. I'll just wait here with my fancy tea and Dutch dog to keep me company." 

Finch quietly left with the dog, leaving her alone for nearly forty five minutes before John called back in. She'd done all her catching up on Owen Matthews in the time he'd been gone, sifting through article after article for any spare information she needed to find. "Any progress on IDing our Colombian hitmans employer?"

John felt the air leave his lungs at the sound of her voice. "I'm working on it right now, but I haven't had any luck yet. Hello to you too by the way. It's nice to know you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere in Europe." 

"Where are Finch and Shaw, Delaney?"

"Finch set Shaw to confront her old employers with the ISA in regards to Owen Matthews. He's on his way back here with Bear as we speak." Her eyes flickered downward to the wedding ring on her left hand. _In sickness and in health, for better for worse, till death do us part._ Vows she'd come to take so seriously and here they were-- on opposite sides of the world. 

"Owen Matthews is a relevant number." John replied blankly. "How long have you and Finch known?"

"Before you get your boxers in a knot, I literally just got caught up on this case like twenty minutes ago." She stated, attempting to keep any indication of anger or bitterness from her voice. "I don't know _anything_ John. Neither does he. I can only assume that he had no idea why a mid-level programmer would be relevant, so he sent Shaw to investigate."

Harold was walking back through the main hall on the top floor of the Library when he heard Johns voice, stopping Bear in his tracks as his eyes watched Delaneys body language change. "And you didn't think to tell me anything? Either of you?" She sighed deeply and rested her head in her hands, her fingers curling into her dark hair as she waited for John to continue berating her. "Just like his Machine, Delaney. He has all the information and just won't share it."

The line cut off abruptly. "When he comes to his senses," She started, turning her head to gaze at Harold with tear filled brown eyes. "Remind me to smack the stupid out of him."

////////////

Technically speaking, she could've just let Finch handle the rest of the information regarding the number and gone back to the Loft. But since John had gotten rid of his phone and the only way she could hear his voice was through the commlink connected in the Library. 

So that was how she found herself spread out beside Bear later that night, eyes glued to her phone as Harold fed her the information she'd need to hack into the one John had been using to call back and forth for the past several hours. It was abnormally quiet in the Library for a working night, and the silence set her on edge. 

Until a text caught her attention and sent shivers down her spine. 

_From: Unknown_

_What better way to tear a man apart then by destroying his only weakness?_

_We'll see each other soon enough._

She cursed under her breath and deleted the message, lifting her head to meet Harolds eyes which were still glued to the row of computers in front of him. "He's working on pinpointing suspects." Delaney reassured, resting her hand on his knee as she sat up at the waist. "I can't ever see John just allowing someone to die. He'll figure it out."

Harold kissed the top of her hand and motioned for her to lay back down beside Bear. "You have bags growing under your eyes, Delaney. I think it's best for you to sleep for a while. I'll take care of John until you wake up." She nodded weakly and fisted Bears fur in her fingers, resting her head beside his own as her eyes fluttered shut. "Goodnight Mrs. Reese." 

_Her dreams were normally tranquil with the occasional nightmare, but as always, Mckenna was sitting on top of a stack of luggage in the cargohold in a commercial jet as she watched John and an ISA agent brawl in front of her. "This is real life, by the way." She mused, kicking her feet back and forth. "Do you ever really watch John fight, Del? He talks underneath his breath almost as if he's muttering specific defensive moves to himself. Watch."_

_She did as told, her eyes firmly locked on Johns mouth as he moved to take down the assailant. Sure enough, he was muttering defensive strikes underneath his breath. Moves that the two of them had worked on together in the Military and the first few months of the CIA. "He's fighting almost as if he's fighting.. me?" She whispered breathlessly, lifting her head to look at Mckenna again. "Why?"_

_"He's shot down the flight attendants offer for drinks twice now. Why else do you think? You're what keeps him going." Mclenna replied, glancing down at the watch fastened on her wrist as John knocked the ISA agent unconscious. The second he was able to compose himself, he lifted his hand to his lips and kissed his wedding band. "Things are about to get interesting, Reese. Wake up."_

Her eyes snapped open only to find Finch in a rush to connect _something_ to his monitors-- almost identical to the controls in the cockpit of a plane. "Are you-Are you piloting the plane?!" She exclaimed, jumping to her feet and rushing behind his chair to gaze at the scene in front of her. "John!" 

" _Delaney?!_ " 

It was clear that he was struggling to get out of someones hold. "Fingers against the jugular, knee into the upper thigh and slam the heel of your hand down on the top of the skull!" She commanded. John did exactly as told and slammed the Lanceros head into the wall. "Alright Finch, take us down!" 

"Hold on Mr. Reese!" 

Finch landed the plane cautiously and threw himself back into the chair as John gave a satisfied applause. "You hear that Finch, that's for you. You stuck that bird." Delaney laughed breathlessly as Finch grinned widely at her, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the controls in front of him. 

"Thank you Mr. Reese. How about Owen?" 

"The only relevant number on this plane is 130 people."

John went silent moments later. Delaney leaned forward and unwrapped his fingers from the mock control panel before setting them down on his desk. "Well, I'd say we have a flight to Rome to catch. Would you like to accompany me, Mrs. Reese?" 

"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Finch." 

////////////////////////////

The cafe they were sitting in was in between two sets of buildings, multiple people milling around the square. Finch had taken her to the dress shop earlier this morning and had given a solid recommendation on a new outfit for when she'd cross paths with John again. They had nearly been out of the store when a scarlet red fedora on the shelves by the door had caught Finch's attention, and he'd immediately bought it for her. 

"It'll catch Mr. Reeses eye faster then you think." 

She wanted to be as inconspicuous about her being in the courtyard as possible, so she leaned against the wall of the building John had come out of and bid goodbye to the flight attendant before making his way over to where Finch sat. "Where is she?" He said softly, his eyes scanning the crowd of people for the figure of his wife. 

"Watching. Just like she always does." Finch replied. "Just so you're aware, I'm only here to finish situating Owen with a new identity and destination." John quirked an eyebrow at his closest friend and leaned back in his seat, unaware of the waitress scurrying over to meet him. 

"Excuse my broken English sir, but that woman over there asked me to give you this." She replied, setting down a piece of paper with _Romeo_ scrawled across the front and a steaming cup of black coffee. John lifted his eyes to identify where Delaney was hiding, completely unaware she was working her way up to their table from behind. 

_The best husband._

_The fiercest protector._

_My everything._

_\- Best of Wives and Best of Women_

Finch suppressed a smirk as Delaney stepped up behind John and tilted her hat down to just above her browbone, her arms slinking around his broad shoulders. "Hello." She whispered softly. It amazed him to see how easily John let his guard down when she was around, let alone touching him. "Did you miss me?" 

"Was it that obvious?" 

"If I may interrupt you, Mrs. Reese." Finch interjected. Delaney nodded and pulled a spare chair over to Johns side, taking his hand in her own and pressed her lips against his bruises knuckles. "Mr. Reese, I understand your frustration with the opacity of the Machine, but there's a reason I chose to make it that way. The Machine only gives us numbers because I would rather that a human element remain in determining something so critical as someones fate. We have free will, and with that comes great responsibility and sometimes great loss." John pressed his lips together in a thin line and glanced at his wife through his peripheral vision, his grip on her hand tightening as she stared at Finch. "I miss her dearly too."

"When are you leaving?" John replied as he desperately tried to look for something new to fix his eyes on. Delaney noticed how uncomfortable he was and leaned over to whisper something in his ear, causing him to blush deeply. "Be good.'' 

"I always am." She whispered back seductively, hooking her ankle around his underneath the table.

"Soon. I was thinking about going to this exhibit at a museum nearby. He was an artist Grace was very fond of. I can only assume Delaney would be accompanying, but you're welcome to join us."

"I'm not sure I can, Finch.'' John started, face falling as Harolds expression changed from one of reminiscence to sadness. "I thought while I was in Italy that I'd get fitted for a new suit. Maybe take my wife on a date. We've never been to Rome." 

A wide grin spread across her face as Finch lifted his head, his own eyes widened as he nodded eagerly. "I should call my tailor Giani for an appointment after lunch. He's the best." 

"I thought maybe I could hitch a ride back with you both? I'm not quite ready to fly commercial yet. But I need to get back to work with my partner.. So.." 

_Partners._ She had been waiting years for John to finally refer to her as his equal, and it had finally come to light that not only was she capable of taking care of herself, but she was his colleague and his _partner._ "Certainly, Mr. Reese. I know the pilot! I think we could delay that flight."

Delaney stood to her feet and extended her hand, lacing her fingers with Johns. "His tailor is just next door to where I bought this outfit this morning. I can take him over there." Finch furrowed his brow as she winked in his direction, lightly tapping on the earpiece in her ear that was hidden by her hair. "I can take him over there. Call me when the flight is ready." 

"Will do!"

Their walk was quiet as she lead him to the square where the dress shop was, motioning to sit on the marble stones that formed a circle around the fountain in front of the plaza. John sat down and opened his arms, allowing her to sit in his lap as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. "I think this belongs to you." She pulled the pendant that Mckenna had given her out from beneath her dress suit and unclasped the necklace, taking Johns hand to return his ring to his finger. "You did tell me you'd be back for it." 

"Do I even need to say I'm sorry?" He said quietly, resting his forehead against her shoulder as she leaned into his chest. His scruff lightly scratched her as his breath ghosted over her shoulders and against her neck. "Cause again. the two of you were right. I was just too self absorbed and-"

"We all cope differently, John. I'm not mad at you for wanting to go somewhere for a change of scenery. I was so infuriated because I thought you just kept running, but you were just doing what you know how to do. It's what I did after London. I just.. I don't want this to be what we're remembered for. Running away from each other."

"I'm not leaving you again. I-" John swallowed thickly as both pairs of eyes flickered to the front of the tailoring shop where a short Italian man was beckoning the two of them inside. It was hard for them to make promises to each other because neither of them knew if they'd be able to see the sunrise tomorrow. "I promise." 


	43. Our Own Little World

"I've booked a private flight for your three day trip to Hawaii, Mr. Reese." Finch stated, pressing his phone against his ear. It had been two days since his return from Rome and two days since he'd last seen Delaney and John walk off together in the direction of his tailor for John to be fitted with a new suit. "Are you sure about this?"

"There's no better time for me to do it. Besides, technically I'm not back to work until I'm inside the Library and right now I'm watching an Italian artists paint my wives portrait. We board our flight tonight to your privately rented beach in Hawaii for three days. We'll be back before you know it."

Delaney stood from her chair just as the artist finished his portrait, extending his hand as she laid the Italian currency in his palm and tucked the canvas beneath her arm. "What? There's no way I'm leaving this thing behind!" She exclaimed, grinning widely at John who only snickered in response. "Do we have everything?" 

"I hailed a taxi a couple of minutes ago that'll take us right to the airport where Finch has our plane waiting. It's just you and me. No one else." He whispered, his breathing ghosting over her cheeks as the two of them walked down the sidewalk to the busiest street in town. She pinched the inside of her wrist as it dawned upon her-- She and John were actually taking a three day honeymoon to a rented out beach in Hawaii. They were on their _honeymoon._

"Am I dreaming?" Delaney murmured breathlessly, her eyes flickering over to John who slid into the taxi beside her and pounded on the divider to signal the driver that they were both inside. "We're actually going on a honeymoon to Hawaii? This is all real?" 

"100 percent real, Juliet." He reassured. Their eyes met for the third time that day, and it suddenly became incredibly hard to breathe as John inched himself close enough to her that their shoulders were brushing against each others. A shudder ran down her spine as he brushed away a strand of dark hair, twisting it around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. "I have been waiting for this day for so long, Delaney. You have no idea how badly I want-" 

She pressed her finger against his lips, her other hand sliding up his chest to tangle in his salt and pepper hair. His pupils dilated at the contact while his own hands gripped her hips. "I want this. All of this. Any life with you is a life I want to live." Delaney said quietly. "I want _you_ , John Reese.''

He wiggled his eyebrows provocatively and kissed the end of her nose. "Well that's good to know. I'll make a mental note of it." The cab pulled up outside of a tiny airport, slowing to a stop on the runway just beside their plane. John opened his own door and walked around to the other side of the car, opening her door and extending his hand. "Care to run away with me, Mrs. Reese?"

Her stomach twisted in knots and her heart fluttered as her gaze softened, taking his hand and exiting the car. "Why Mr. Reese," Delaney chided, grinning as the flight attendant took their luggage and scurried off to properly store it away. "You know just what to say to all the girls, don't you?"

John rocked on his heels as the two of them entered the only room in the plane; which was the equivalent of a large bedroom with a king sized bed on the far wall opposite the flight attendants lounge, a fully stocked mini fridge, and a flat screen TV. She gazed around the plane in awe as John sat their luggage on the opposite side of the bed and fell onto the mattress carelessly. "Not all the girls. Just to you. You can take my stupid sense of humor." 

She immediately discarded her shoes and fell down onto the mattress beside him, hooking her leg over his as she propped herself up onto her elbows. "I can take? I _tolerate_ your stupid sense of humor." John grinned and hooked his fingers around her wrists, rolling over so that he was on top of her. "What, did you develop a naughty side too?"

"You haven't given me a nickname yet." He purred, grinning widely when she shivered under his touch. Her eyes flickered up to meet his own as she lifted her head and brushed her lips against his, pulling away before he could deepen it. "That's cruel." 

"Teasing is my middle name, _Mr. Reese."_ She replied, ruffling his hair and unbuttoning the first two buttons on his shirt. His eyes followed her as she walked towards the flight attendants lounge and murmured thanks to the young blonde woman as she took two red wine glasses from her fingers. "Now, we can either watch multiple movies for the next sixteen hours to Hawaii, or I can kill you in poker. Your choice." 

John wiggled his eyebrows and took the glass from her hands. "What do I get if I win at poker?" He asked, raising his eyebrows as Delaney tucked her own wine back into the fridge and launched a pillow at his face-- causing him to nearly spill it all over the floor. His jaw dropped indignantly as he rolled off the bed to avoid another pillow. "Delaney!"

"I've decided that we shall have a pillow fight." She proclaimed, gasping as John chucked a pillow rather hard in her direction and just barely missed her face. "And if I win, you have to go on really cheesy dates with me for two days because I fully intend on spending at least one of those three days in our cottage house." 

She had caught John off guard the entire time she was speaking, dressed only in a camisole and skinny jeans as she slowly and tantalizingly lowered the straps of her bra down her shoulders. He was so entranced by what he saw that he never realized she was only inches away from him, until her pillow slapped him so hard in the face that it sent him flat on his back. "That- That was not fair!" John rasped, jumping to his feet and lunging outward to tackle her to the ground amidst the feathers strewn all over the floor. "You're gonna pay for that." 

Delaney quirked an eyebrow, her chest heaving with every breath she took as she focused solely on the art of seducing the man above her-- another useful skill she and Mckenna had fed to one another. "Your dirty talk needs work, husband." She joked, squealing as he locked his knees at her hips and rolled up her camisole, allowing his fingers to ghost over the soft flesh of her stomach. "Oh please _no_ -" 

"Oh, dear me." John teased, his motions becoming more frantic as she squirmed beneath him. "Is the dear, sweet Lady in Red ticklish? Why I never realized she had a weakness!" She slammed her hand against the floor as John took her wrists and tightly pinned them over her head. He was silent for a moment as the two of them stared at each other. "I love you." 

"You're cheesy, Romeo." 

"It's all for you Juliet.''

//////////////////////////

Their rented out house was massive; with one Master bedroom and an attached kitchen, a sunroom that overlooked the beach, and an equally large bathroom with a brand new marble shower. After their pillow fight the two of them had fallen asleep for the greater majority of the flight, landing in Oahu twenty minutes previous to their arrival to the house. 

Delaney entered the house first dressed in a short crochet knit white sundress, her penetrating gaze hidden by the sunhat propped on top of her hair as she discarded her sandals by the door. John stood not too far away as she stepped deeper into the living room and gazed at the space in wonder. "Let me tell you, Harold surely knows how to impress a girl." She whistled in amazement. John smiled to himself and set their overnight bags in the master bedroom, venturing back into the kitchen to find that she was already digging her way into the refrigerator. 

"Can you not let your stomach control your thoughts for five minutes?" 

The brunette poked her head out of the refrigerator and allowed her eyes to drink in his toned figure and the sunkissed skin he almost always hid beneath the suits he wore for his job. "Says the man who acts like he's got a steel exterior but had a freaking pillow fight with his wife on the plane." Delaney produced two packs of frozen chicken and a drawer stocked with fresh vegetables and leaned over the island in the middle of the kitchen, wiggling her eyebrows at John. "So, want to have a classy dinner on the beach or order out Chinese?" 

John pursed his lips and shook his head. "We're on the only vacation that we may ever get... Our work doesn't exactly allow extended vacations for the heck of it. I'm cooking a classy dinner and opening the best bottle of wine Finch has got to offer." Her eyes flickered to the open ocean just outside the house and the long, vacant stretch of shoreline. "Go." 

"Can you really tell I love the ocean that much?" 

He snorted under his breath and tore open the pack of chicken. "No, I know you're no use when it comes to cooking. Put a blanket out, enjoy the ocean cause you may never get to see it again."

They spent the rest of the night talking on the shoreline, curled up underneath the plaid blanket she'd brought outside, their plates discarded in the sand. Delaney rested her head against Johns chest with their legs intertwined, her finger absentmindedly trailing up and down his torso. John tilted his head upward and gently nudged her shoulder. "Hey sweetheart." He whispered softly, motioning to the sky. " _Look up."_

The ocean curled at their feet, waves softly lapping at their toes as Delaney lifted her head to the sky to admire the thousands of stars that had come out of hiding for the night. Such a sight was a rarity in New York; but out here in the distant somewhere with nobody else around.. It was an picture she'd keep hidden in her memory forever. "Hey John." She replied softly, propping herself up on her elbow. She turned her head downward to look at him, her blood chilling when she realized that his lips were just inches away from her own. "Can I kiss you?" 

He caught her completely off guard by rolling over and pinning her against the blanket, eyes bright with excitement as he dipped his head down to come right beside her ear. "I think the better question is can _I_ kiss _you?_ " John growled, smiling against her skin as she shuddered beneath his touch. He captured his lips in hers ever so softly at first, nothing but light reciprocation until in a split second.. It wasn't.

Delaney gasped as his fingers ran down the sides of her body to grip her hips, her own threading through his hair as he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. John thoroughly explored her mouth while his hands continued to wander, coming to sit on the tops of her thighs where her dress ended and became nothing but skin. "John." She panted, hooking a leg over his hip as he pulled her flush against him. " _John._ " 

**Smuff**

Neither of them talked as John picked up his bride and ventured towards the house, her legs firmly locked around his hips as he stumbled towards the bedroom. It was exactly as she had imagined it to be; slow and passionate, tender and sweet. As soon as the back of her knees hit the mattress, she let out a breathy moan when John began lightly sucking on the juncture of where her neck met her shoulder. "Are you sure about this, Juliet?" He whispered, shrugging off his teeshirt as her fingers curled around the hem and tossed it in the corner of the room. "Are you _ready?_ " 

Her hair clung to her face as Delaney lifted her head to meet his eyes, leaning close enough to him that she could undo his belt buckle and toss it in the opposite direction of his shirt. "I have been waiting years to be able to say that I could be unconditionally _yours_ since I met you. I love you. I need you." Her gaze darkened as she brought her lips to his ear. "I _want you_." 

That was enough. John pressed her body into the mattress and maneuvered his arms to curl around her waist, bringing his fingers upward to the zipper of her dress. He slowly and tantalizingly unzipped the outfit and left warm kisses on her exposed skin as he went, watching in wonder as it pooled at her ankles. His cerulean blue eyes flickered back up to Delaneys fac where she was grinning widely as she watched him. "What the heck are you smiling at?" 

"I could start makin' really cheesy pickup lines right now." She mused, hooking her leg around his hip and pulling him back down to her. His fingers wrapped around the frames of her hips as she tilted her head and placed delicate kisses on Johns jaw. "Or you can show me how much you love me, _Mr. Reese._ " 

"You're naughty." He growled in response, discarding her undergarments and stepping back to stare at his wife in her glory. He had come to admire Delaneys body image years ago- but to see the scars that lay beneath from her experiences in Afghanistan and Iraq mapped like constellations across her abdomen and lower torso sent his heart running for the hills. She was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on. 

"You think this is bad? You haven't seen anything yet." 

Neither of them forgot that night in the following years, constantly reminiscing the first time they were ever able to become one. And how they woke up the following morning intertwined beneath the softest sheets she'd ever slept in, bodies pressed against one another and Johns gentle snores melodic to the sound of the ocean waves, was the first time they had felt an inexplicable peace... And it was _blissful._

///////////////////////////////////

"Okay, so there's two major places I want to go. The watering hole in Oahu and I _definitely_ want to either go snorkeling or surfing." Delaney glanced over the lid of her laptop to gaze back at John, who was supine on the floor across from her and working on his morning cardio routine. "We spent all day yesterday in bed and you owe me a cheesy date or two.. considering we've never been on one." 

"I could do surfing." John replied, sitting up at the waist and discarding his 15 pound weights. "I saw a Surf shop about a mile away from here.. I'd be interested to see how hard you'd fail." She quizzically rose an eyebrow at his statement and stood to her feet to lay her laptop on the table. "Or-Or how hard I'd fail. Either one is fine." 

"Good Lord, all I did was stand up. Are you seriously that intimidated by me?"

"In case you've forgotten," John called out, following her into their bedroom and kneeling by his duffel bag to pull out an outfit for the day. "You've been ridiculously competitive since before I even met you. That's not on me.. It's just in your nature." She snorted indignantly and pulled on a cover for over her bikini, fashioning her hair into a bun before perching her sunglasses on her nose. "Ready?" 

"I'm ready to kill you at surfing!" 

It took them twenty minutes to arrive at the Surf Shack down on the public lot of the beach, discarding their supplies for the afternoon and following their instructor down to the shoreline. He'd introduced himself as Blake West, an fellow ex-Navy Seal who'd moved to Hawaii once his contract had been up. The two of them had instantly hit it off, but she had good fun watching John make a total fool of himself. 

After a successful run one on one lesson with Blake, Delaney had come back to the shore to film Johns excursion on her IPhone. She had just started to tape his surfing lesson when John ducked down to bow through the tube of ocean water, thousands of gallons of water threatening to close the end of the tube. Her heart nearly burst from her throat when John wiped out, disappearing beneath the waves and out of her sight. 

" _JOHN!"_

Delaney threw her phone onto her beach towel and moved to sprint deeper into the ocean only to blanch directly in front of Blake, who was laughing hysterically as John sputtered and pulled himself back up onto his board. "Well, that could've gone better." Blake howled. "You going to come claim your husband, Mrs. Reese?" 

John wearily lifted his head from his board and met the mischievous grin spread across his wives face as she straddled her surfboard. He took that moment to intently look at her-- his eyes sliding up her sunkissed thighs and up to her own eyes, piercing and inviting against the glow of the sun. "Look at me and say I told you so." She mused, grinning widely as John pulled himself up onto his own board and together the two of them paddled back to shore. Blake smirked at the couple as they collapsed side by side on the sand and began laughing hysterically at Johns lack of coordination with his feet. It was nearly flawless on land but awful in water. 

"Okay, you were right. You told me so." 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////

Harold was there to greet them at the airport on the fourth day following their honeymoon - eyes crinkling as a smile spread across his face as he watched John and Delaney exit the plane. "Well, you two have never looked better." He commented, jabbing a thumb at the car where Root was intently watching from the front seat. "Did you enjoy yourself in Hawaii?" 

Delaney tipped her sunhat upward and winked at John, who proceeded to hide his face in his own hat to hide his embarrassment. "I enjoyed snorkeling because John was _fantastic_ at that. The best part of the entire trip was watching him wipe out in the middle of his surfing lesson. Took two freaking hours for him to successfully surf a wave but other then that," Her gaze softened as she kissed Johns cheek before bounding down the steps of the plane and towards Root. "It was the best vacation I've ever had.. Felt like I was human again." 

"Are you ready to get back at it?" 

Both John and Delaney perked up from inside the car and simultaneously reached into their carry-ons to pull out the handguns they'd taken with them to Hawaii. "Are you kidding? His trigger finger is itching to be beating the crap out of people. And me? I'm ready to get my hand-eye coordination back and kill him with accuracy." She cocked the slide on her handgun and subtly winked at Root who blushed in response. 

" _Let's go to work."_


	44. Self Preservation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it tragic that tortured souls have the kindest hearts?

Her eyes opened to nothing but what was normally considered total darkness, albeit the light bulb hanging from the rusted chain several feet away from her. The air was stale and cold, and somewhere in the dark she could vaguely make out the sound of water dripping from the ceiling and onto the floor. A low groan escaped her lips as she stretched her sore limbs only to find that she had been restrained at the ankles and wrists, and the rope that restrained her was painfully digging into her skin.

_Where am I?_

"Oh, dear me. It looks like our test subject has woken." The male voice was muddled despite the fact it was indeed in the same room as her, but her vision and hearing were both distorted. She vaguely remembered being on the street in New York with.. Shaw. She had been recovering intel for a number with Sameen and then someone had jabbed a needle into her throat. "You think you're going to escape, Mrs. Reese? That's useless and naive. No one is coming to save you until Harold Finch gives himself up to Vigilance." 

The man stepped out of the shadows and revealed himself to be none other then Peter Collier, flanked by a man and a woman both armed to the teeth. Peter knelt down in front of Delaney and removed the gag from her mouth, gripping her chin to force her to focus on him. "You sick, sadistic son of a-"

"Oh no, sweetie. I'm not the one at fault here!" He exclaimed. "See, it's your friend that's at fault. Harold Finch is the one who created... what's it called? _The Machine?_ An artificial intelligence used to spy on every good American citizen. It is an invasion of privacy, and I would like him to answer for it. It took me a long time to figure out how to exploit him, and then it hit me!" He snapped his fingers and continued walking around her. "Every man has a weakness and it just so happens that you are the weakness to two men. The Man In The Suit, and Harold Finch! And then I thought... why not exploit them both?" 

She bravely lifted her head from its slumped position and met his gaze, gathering the blood in her mouth and spitting it directly in his face. "You can do whatever you want to me because I have yet to be broken in the ways that those two have. Do what you must," Her eyes narrowed as Collier recoiled and used his sleeve to wipe the blood from his face. "But don't touch Harold and John." 

"Oh believe me, Delaney. All I have to do to get to them is make you _bleed._ " 

***

_36 hours earlier_

"What do you mean she's just gone?!" Reese demanded, pacing the length of the Library as Shaw anxiously rocked on her heels. "You were with her. Together. The two of you were TOGETHER for this intel! My wife wouldn't just let herself get kidnapped-" 

"My Gods Reese, calm yourself for a minute." Shaw tutted, raising her hands in surrender as the two men waited for her to explain the story. "I was on the roof with my rifle while she was doing the ground work. We were _successful_ enough to the point where I was cracking math related jokes because of how much she hates them." Her frown deepened when Shaw saw that her attempt at humor had clearly failed. "And when her comms went dead, I saw a van with six guys come out in front of the bar the number was in. I killed four of them, and two took her away. Discarded her phone and weapon too. She's unarmed." 

John inhaled sharply as he attempted to act as calm as possible, when in reality his mind was spinning in a thousand different directions and his heart was screaming at him for his lack of judgement. She was so _innocent_ , his Del. She hadn't even gotten through the proper ways to deal with torture class in the CIA, let alone been apart of one. Being a medic in Afghanistan had done wonders for her. She saw the blood and dismembered limbs and saved lives. She'd never truly seen the psychological damage that came with being tortured. 

"She's innocent." He murmured quietly, clenching his fists at his sides. Finch had already gone through the firewall of the security cameras outside the bar Shaw had given him. "Get through that security feeds and comm me when you've got viable information." 

"Where are you going?" Shaw called out. "At least take the dog!"

But John never turned around. 

_Present_

_Are you insane like me?_

_Been in pain like me?_

She defiantly lifted her eyes to meet Peters, dried blood masking the sharp features of her face. A beat down of thirty minutes a day was a normal occurrence. It was normally how the day started. But the longer she stayed inside that dank, cold, grimy cell the more difficult it became to tell how much time had passed. 

"TELL ME WHERE THE ACOLYTES OF THE MACHINE ARE!" 

_Bought a hundred dollar bottle of champagne like me_

Something was broken, most likely her fingers considering he didn't have the guts to break anything else, but she couldn't feel anything anymore. Any ounce of hope she'd had of John ever coming to rescue her had slowly begun to dissipate with every moment she was awake. This.. this breaking down of her being was her penance for letting Mckenna die for her. For all the mistakes she had made, for the people she'd made suffer. 

_Are you high enough without the Mary Jane like me?  
Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me? _

It started with the beat downs. Then they force fed her a meager meal of what looked to be bread and water, but her eyes were so accustomed to darkness that they'd forgotten the sigh of what real food actually looked like. Then came the verbal abuse. Using her mistakes against her and trying to convince her that everything bad to happen in her life was her fault to begin with.

She'd always thought Shaw was insane for never allowing herself to feel things. To never let her emotions show when something got the better of her. But the longer she screamed and the more she fought back against Vigilance; the very people who caused her breaking, the more she understood the desire to lock everything up. 

Inch by inch, piece by piece, Delaney Reese was beginning to lose all of the traits that made her _herself._ Compassion, humility, grace, love... It all gave way to the anger that coursed through her veins when a new round of torture started. 

"Keep it together." She whispered, her chest heavy as the door slammed behind Peter and the same woman who continued to accompany him followed in his suit. Blood trickled down the laceration on her cheekbone as she slowly lowered her head, eyes falling on her wedding ring. The idiots had never taken it off. "You have to keep yourself together for John." 

_Do the people whisper 'bout you on the train like me?  
Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me? _

John searched high and low for clues of the whereabouts of his bride, spending most days and nights using the information that Harold had given to him. The car was registered to Vigilance under the name Betty Ross, but that was all they knew. Shaw had been searching the city for a possible hideout but had come up dry too. 

He was kicking himself for ever letting her out of his sight. The part of him that had died, the CIA part wanted nothing more then to unleash hell on those who stood in his way. Kara would've been proud of that. His want, his _need_ to wreak havoc on those who dared to hurt the love of his life. 

The part of him that Delaney had brought back to life was weeping. Deep inside his soul, the good pieces of him that she'd brought to the surface were desperately trying to cling onto the hope that she was still alive. He would do everything in his power to bring back that same woman who had saved him all those years ago, inside a shabby tent in Afghanistan, with nothing but a needle and her good faith. 

"John, I think you need to come and see this." 

He raced back to the Library at Finchs call, stumbling into the main room where Harold and Shaw were intently studying the screen of the computer nearest to them. His heart raced with a newfound hope until Sameen turned back to face him, a somber look written across her face. 

"Vigilance reached out to us, sent a video straight here. It's a ransom video, and Delaney's right in the middle of it. It's less then a minute long but your wife gave us something that's gonna prove incredibly useful. Watch this." 

John leaned over Shaws shoulder and peered at the computer, his eyes widening in horror when he recognized the limp body in the chair that was the center of the video. The same black man they'd seen several times since knowing about Vigilance was behind her, a sadistic smile spread across his face. 

"So I finally reach out to Mr. Harold Finch!" He exclaimed. "It's so nice to finally get the word out there. Took me a while to get any contact information out of your girl here, but I finally managed it. You do realize it's been almost a week that she's been in our possession, right? I could've killed her by now, and I didn't. But I'm more then willing to show you the damage that's been done." 

Light poured into the frame as a different brunette woman entered the camera, a rifle strapped around her shoulders as she gripped Delaneys hair and forced her head upward. John let out an audible gasp at her condition; her face had dried blood over most of her most prominent features that made her recognizable. There was a blossoming bruise over her cheekbone, and judging from the misshapen state of her fingers, he could only assume they had broken them.

" _I broke your weakness, Mr. Finch. And to our dear Man In The Suit, the wife you once knew no longer exists."_

"This is where it gets interesting. Don't focus on Collier anymore. Focus on Delaney."

Finch pulled out a spare notepad and slowly zoomed inward on Delaneys face, lightly tapping her eyes with the tip of his pen. "Did the two of you learn Morse code when you served together?" He asked quietly. John nodded in confirmation and pursed his lips as her eyes met his own, and she began to blink in morse code. A message only for the three of them.

_I_

"Now, I'm more then willing to make you a deal. Hand yourself over to Vigilance, and I will let Delaney go. But if you don't.. She's just about reached her breaking point and I don't think she can last much longer."

_AM_

"Your choice, Harold."

_ALIVE_

And then the camera faded to black.

/////////

Every single atom of her being was screaming. Petrified and weakened, there was nothing more she could do to preserve the humanity they'd been trying to steal from her. She wanted out. She wanted _John._ But all she received was absolute darkness and mind blowing pain coursing through her entire body.

"You will survive." Delaney whispered, her voice hoarse from the endless amount of screaming as another figure entered the room. She recoiled as they slowly made their way closer, only to find herself looking at the silhouette of what she could only assume was a woman. It was too dark to tell otherwise. "You will endure." 

_Life can get you down, so I just numb the way it feels._

Cold water trickled down her throat as the woman slowly tilted her head back, careful to not agitate the wounds on her body. Delaney let out a low whimper at the feeling of her first cold drink in over a week, "Sh." The woman whispered, setting down the cup and dipping her bandanna in the remainder of water inside. "I'm going to clean the blood off your face." 

_I drown it with a drink and out of date prescription pills._

She'd never been a drug addict, but alcohol had more or less consumed her life when she'd been serving overseas with John and Mckenna. When she lost a comrade, a drink took the pain away. When things became too difficult, a drink made her less anxious. Willing to do whatever it took to keep the two people most important in the world to her safe. 

_And all the ones who love me, they just left me on a shelf_

John was going to come for her. So would Root, maybe Shaw. Her list had grown significantly larger. 

_No farewell_

"Mrs. Reese," Lips beside her ear, the unknown woman bent down to her knees to whisper in her ear. "You're alive. Try to keep it that way until your help arrives." She inhaled sharply as two piercing emerald green eyes met her own in the dark before she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. 

_So before I save someone else,_

_I've got to save myself._


	45. Self Destruction

_And all the people say  
You can't wake up, this is not a dream  
You're part of a machine, you are not a human being_

_"_ What are you?!" 

"I'm an acolyte of an artificial intelligence!" She shrieked, throwing back her head as Peter strategically maneuvered another needle deep into her fingernail. It had been going on for the greater part of an hour and if he moved one more into any of her remaining fingers, she'd pass out. 

"Are you sorry for your actions?" 

"Not a chance in this side of _hell._ " 

John stopped short of Root and Shaw as the telephone closest to him began to blare, his heart skyrocketing at the thought that maybe the Machine had received Delaney's number much too late. "John, when that light switches we're screwed!" Root snapped, backtracking to the tormented husband as he pulled the phone off of the receiver. "We can't worry about the relevant numbers now!"

He had no idea where Harold was or why the Machine had failed to deliver Delaneys number to them. John was infuriated at the fact, but if it was God smiling down on him and granting him the chance to save his wife, he was going to take it.

"This is a life. A life of a woman I care too deeply about to lose." His eyes lit up as he processed the words that The Machine had relayed. "And it's an opportunity to save a life. That's what Finch would want us to do." 

_With your face all made up, living on a screen  
Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline_

Slipping away, falling fast into an abyss she could never return from. When and _if_ John ever found her, there would be a long psychological recovery ahead. "You think you have the upper hand. You're weak." Collier growled, stepping away to admire his work. Her eyes narrowed in the darkness as they met the transparent form of Mckenna, sitting on the edge of the table to her left and watching the entire endeavor with narrowed blue eyes. "Pathetic. It's a miracle you could put up with this! When your friends return, they're just going to toss you to the side. The woman they came to know is _dead._ " 

"If I'm so dead," His eyes widened as she snapped her restraints, jumping to her feet. "Then how am I still standing?" 

_I think there's a fault in my code_

_These voices won't leave me alone_

"You've got a hand full of broken fingers. Your bad knee is finally getting the better of you. You're hopelessly outmatched." Mckenna chided. She flexed her good hand and narrowed her eyes in on Collier, her gaze falling on the dagger attached to his hip. "So what are you going to do?" 

"Self destruct." 

///////////

Lionel Fusco had been on a morning coffee run after a late start with Lee when he entered the Precinct only to find his phone blaring from his desk, drawing his attention away from the tantalizing call of the doughnuts at the front desk. He sat his coffee beside the hidden camera provided by Finch at his desk and sat down, pulling the phone off of the receiver. ''Hello, this is Lieutenant Fusco speaking. Who-" 

"This is Officer Kat Campbell from the 8th Precinct." An urgent voice barked. He'd seen Kat Campbell milling around the Precinct several times before Carter had been killed, but had not seen her since. "I've been deep undercover in an anti-surveillance group called Vigilance for several months, and things have taken a turn for the worst. I have enough intel to be able to shut the group down but now there's a hostage situation-" 

"Where's your CO?" 

" _He was taken out with HR_!" She snapped. "I knew you and your connections to Harold Finch and John Reese well enough that I called you because I _trust_ you, Fusco. There's a hostage situation with Delaney in Brooklyn at the warehouse near the river. It's where Vigilance has been holding up- _Crap._ " 

And then the line went dead.

Fusco hastily pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed his Speed Dial One, the shortcut number for Johns cellphone. " _Fusco? Did you find something out?"_

"You know that abandoned warehouse on the River that got shut down back in the nineties? Well, apparently that's where Vigilance is hiding out. Meet me there in fifteen!" 

///

_I understood myself only after I destroyed myself._

She launched herself into attack mode, slamming Peter Collier against the floor and unleashing all of her pent up anger into each strike of her fist. Having no prior military experience was very much a displeasure in his fighting skills. He really didn't have any. 

After a few satisfying hits and a sickening crack as his nose gave out to her brute force, Delaney moved her fingers around his throat and slowly began to cut off his circulation. With her legs locked at his hips, Collier thrashed and squirmed to try and pry himself away from her but to no avail. His eyes met her own -- two dark brown, vacant eyes stared back at his own. "I want to kill you. I think I will. Just not yet. And when I do, it will be the most painful experience of your life." 

This was a side of herself she'd never seen before. A persona fueled by anger and rage with a craving to wreak havoc on those who wronged her. To take blood. To take _revenge._ She had made it a point to never fall into the same things John had while partnered with Kara Stanton -- and now she was falling to _every single one._

And it was because they wanted to get to _John_ and _Harold?_

Peter maneuvered his legs out from beneath hers and kicked out with all the remaining strength he had left, throwing her into the back wall and sprinting out of the room. Her head swam as Delaney brought herself to her feet, slowly stumbling out the open door and into the main hallway. Darkness danced on the outer edges of her vision as she focused on the male figure in front of her -- two cerulean eyes she'd been dreaming to see since being captured. 

" _John._ " 

Her legs gave out just in time for John to rush forward and catch her, carrying her bridal style out to the car. There was only one remaining cop car that held Fusco and his newest partner; the rest of the police had kidnapped the Vigilance members that had been inside of the Warehouse. Collier had escaped and to where, they had no idea. "Hey sweetheart. Don't you worry about a thing. We're gonna get you help." 

Shaw was waiting inside the vehicle to look over Delaneys wounds as John slowly slid her into the back seat, taking his place in the drivers seat while Root took her own in the passengers seat. The two in the front kept their eyes on the road as Shaw propped herself on her knees and tenderly took her face into her hands to examine her. "Severely bruised cheekbone. Multiple fractured fingers on the left hand and lacerations to the arms. He worked her up pretty good." 

Delaney opened her eyes to gaze at Shaw, gripping the lapels of her coat and forcing her down to her level. " _He did more to me then you know._ " She whispered. "M-My ribs. I think they're broken. If not, they're bruised." As the two of them continued to softly talk about her injuries, John turned his attention to Root in the front seat. 

"We're taking her to Megan Tillman's clinic in Manhattan. She'll be safe there until we get Harold back and stay out of Samaritans sight. I'd rather her be busy healing then getting herself killed by a rival artificial intelligence." John said quietly, gazing at the road ahead of him with a distant look in his eye. "She should've been the priority." 

"Our _priority_ was to keep ourselves from Samaritan. That's what we were doing." 

"You clearly don't get where my priorities lie." John growled, turning into the alley that held Tillmans clinic and turning the car off outside the side door. "I don't care about myself, I don't care if Samaritan recognizes me. What I care about is the wellbeing of my _wife."_

 _"_ John-" 

He opened the back passengers door and grimaced as Shaw helped her into his arms, shutting the door from behind inside the vehicle. Root stood to her feet and leaned against the car, resting her arms on the roof as John curved around the front bumper and approached the now open door. "You're lucky I didn't do worse. Next time you pull some stunt like that, don't expect me to go along with it." 

He entered Tillmans tiny clinic silently, following Megan into the closest exam room. It was the size of a normal office - with bland white walls and medical equipment cabinets lining them, a small exam bed in the middle and a computer on the side counter. "I'm sorry about Delaney, John." Megan quipped, turning on the overhead light as John set his wife down on the exam table. "I'm going to do everything in my power to give her a fast and easy recovery but I think it'll be much longer for the psychological." 

As John gazed over his wife, he found himself pondering the questions that hadn't been answered. Like, what was the real reason Collier had kidnapped her? Was it to get to Finch? What had _happened_ in that room? "Do you think she's ever going to be the same?" Megan looked up from her work and examined the tormented husband, slowly leaning across the table to rest her hand on top of his. 

"You know the repercussions of torture, John. You went through it while you served. The only way she can be the same is if you help her pick up the pieces that the man who destroyed her scattered." 

John opened his mouth to continue but was interrupted by a new female voice. "Meg, I went and got coffee at the cart you were telling me about but I couldn't find the pastries-" Her emerald green eyes snapped over to Johns hunched over figure. "And you must be John Reese. I've heard so much about you.. It's an honor to meet The Man In The Suit." 

"You _told_ her about me?" He asked quizzically. "Who is she anyway?" 

"This is [Kat Campbell](http://hellagifhunts.tumblr.com/post/84253062241/emily-rudd-hq-gif-hunt-under-the-cut-you-will). She's a good friend of mine from back in the day, and she also is the woman who saved your wife." Megan replied, turning her attention to the matter at hand. Kat set down the coffee in her hands and slowly wrapped her arms around Johns bicep, guiding him out of the exam room and into the hallway outside. Kat casually leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest, her green eyes carefully trained on John.

"Are you a cop?" 

"Undercover Detective. My CO was a high ranking member of HR that was arrested following the loss of Joss Carter. She taught me alot more about the job then anyone else did." Her eyes softened as John reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver pendant, twirling the charm beneath his fingers. "Anyway, I had been deep into their organization for several months whenever Peter brought in Delaney. I only knew about her because Joss spoke so highly of the things she'd accomplished, and I knew that he'd taken her for the wrong reasons. Plus.." A shudder ran down Kats spine as she remembered the things she'd witnessed inside that cell. "He did unspeakable things to her. Might not be a bad idea to get her to a psychologist whenever she's physically healed." 

John pursed his lips and leaned against the wall beside her, digging his hands into his pockets to feel the cool metal of the necklace Mckenna had once gifted to her. "I've been through torture before, Kat. I've seen the repercussions, the _things_ it can do to a person. It tears them apart until there's nothing left and all they can do is self destruct. My wife- Delaney is far too good to experience the _horrors_ that come after this kind of thing." 

"This world is corrupt. It does the unspeakable to the people who least deserve it! Loved ones die, careers are destroyed, reputations are disintegrated. The real people who lie beneath that facade of skin are brought to life. It's quite sad when a person you know becomes nothing more then a stranger." A pregnant pause ensued before Kat continued talking, pulling a lone cigarette out of her coat pocket and allowing it to dangle between her lips. "I've seen that happen far too many times to good people, people who spent their lives in unconditional love and truth and were brought down by lies and deceit." The two of them turned back to the exam room, where Megan was beginning to bandage up Delaneys ribs. She had properly treated the injuries to her fingers and was now working on her cheekbone. Delaney looked so... small against the machines Megan had hooked up to her. Multiple IVs and pads connected to heart monitors mapped her like a canvas. "Your wife is a good person, John. You can't give up in the faith you have that she'll _return to it."_

"Will you take care of them until I come back?" He questioned, pulling his hat tighter over his forehead as Root came to the side door and lightly rapped on it, his cue to leave. "I have a... problem I have to take care of. If anything changes tell Tillman not to hesitate in calling me." His eyes flickered back to his wife before John turned towards Root, ready to dive in head first to the take down of Vigilance and Samaritan. 

"J-John?" Delaney rasped, her eyes fluttering open to a whole new level of pain. Her eyes met those of soft white walls until they fell on her caretaker, one of the earliest numbers her and John had ever done together. "Megan? What am I-" Doctor Tillman pressed her hand against her chest and slowly eased her back down onto the bed. "How bad is it?" 

"Your fingers are fractured, so it'll take a little while for them to heal. Two broken ribs and a severely bruised cheekbone.. the cuts themselves will heal over time. You could've been through much worse but with your medical experience, I assume you already knew that." Her eyes slowly shifted over to Megan as she poured a small cup of water and tipped it towards her lips, smiling as Delaney sighed in relief. 

"He did much worse mentally then physically. Brought me down further then I've ever been.." She shivered at the memory and tilted her head back, biting back the tears in her eyes. "Brought back every mistake I had ever made, and it was all to get to John. I've never felt so small in my life." 

"So what did you do?" 

"I became the one thing I've always feared I'd do. I allowed myself to fall into self destruction." 


	46. Mend

_He was right about you._

Two sides of herself, waging a war against the core of her soul to see who would win. A broken heart versus a once sound mind. How could she beat her broken heart? How could she win back _herself?_

_You are weak._

"Please-" Delaney cried, writhing in her sleep. Her broken fingers curled as they loosely gripped the bedsheets, a sheen of sweat now covering her face as she desperately tried to wake herself from her dream. "Please just let me be!" Everything was flooding her memory at once; Johns smile, Joss' murder, the night John had lost himself, Sameens guidance in properly learning how to fight. Everything good and bad that had happened to her since being apart of Team Machine roared through her memory like a rushing wind striking the sides of a house, threatening to tear it apart piece by piece. Then the shot froze -- right on John when he had found her in that warehouse. " _Please_ just let me breathe." 

_You are not better then this._

_You will become the thing you detest._

Her eyes snapped open to bright light, immediately squinting against the glare as she took in her surroundings. She was laying on an exam bed, her broken fingers propped against a small bag of ice on her left and her body tucked underneath two blankets that reminded her of her own back in the Loft. "You look awful." A voice lightly chided. Her eyes narrowed as Mckenna stood in front of her bed and wrapped her fingers through the bedrails. "At least you woke up. You've been asleep for a day and a half." 

_You have to learn what self destruction feels like._

"Why are you always here when I don't want you to be?" Delaney whispered, her head turned towards the light pouring through the window. The alley she'd been brought in was on the opposite side, her window facing the morning traffic on the street outside. "It's been years since you took a bullet for me, Ken. You can go." 

"You still don't get it do you? I'm a figment of your imagination, genius. The only reason I'm here is because you _need me._ " 

Before she could formulate an answer, her lips pressed together as Megan Tillman re-entered the room for the second time that morning. She was carrying a small tray of breakfast; sliced apples, an over-easy egg and a piece of buttered toast. Her mouth began to water at the first real meal she'd had in over a week as the doctor sat at her beside and propped a bed tray up over her lower abdomen. "Good morning Delaney." Megan murmured, taking her bad hand and examining her fingers. "The welling has gone down, so that's an improvement. Do you feel rested? You've been asleep for a day and a half." 

Part of her wanted to say yes, but just turning her head to meet Megans concerned gaze made her stomach turn in knots and bile rise in her throat. "About as rested as I'm going to be." She said quietly, eyes fixated on where McKenna was incredulously watching her eat in front of the bed. "Thank you for the breakfast. Best food I've eaten in well... over a week. They didn't really feed me much when I was being tortured." She downed the sliced apples in a matter of minutes, her eyes flickering to the cup of water in the corner of the tray. "I hate feeling like this. So... weak." 

"You are _not_ weak." Megan said firmly. "You were kidnapped to exploit your husband and your boss and went through the most terrifying experience of your entire life. You were a medic so you've seen all the things a persons body can hold- blood and organs and bone. But you've never dealt with the psychological, not until now anyway." 

Delaney winced as Megan softly sat her hand back down and guided her opposing hand right and left to cut into the egg Kat had made before heading to work. "I've been carrying burdens since watching my best friend take a bullet for me. I took the weight of my husbands deterioration after watching our closest friend die. I just don't know how to deal with the world, let alone how the world deals with me." Megan forced a smile as the woman slowly dug into the core of her meal. "You would think I'm insane if I told you the things I see, Doctor Tillman. Better I learn to live with the guilt." 

"You will take your guilt to the grave if you don't talk about it." Megan murmured. "John told me that you 'see' your dead best friend from your childhood. I heard you talking to someone before I came in here and I know for a fact that the only other person who has been here today is Kat and my RNA. What you're doing is a different form of a coping mechanism- but Iris knows alot more about coping mechanisms then I do.''

"Iris? Who's she?" 

"[Iris Campbell](http://magicb0x.tumblr.com/post/103024364903/we-can-start-where-we-left-off-your-hero) is Kat's older sister. She's a clinical therapist who works with cops and veterans with PTSD, which you fall into. I'm sure she'd be happy to come in and talk to you. Let me tell you Delaney, Iris is the easiest person to get along with and is a phenomenal listener." 

"She better be prepared to listen to me ramble about my insanity, my nightmares, the reckless behavior and the fact that I literally feel like I belong on medication for my irrational fear of life. If I don't like her, I'm probably kicking her out." 

"Everyone has a fear of something. Yours just happens to be the fear of letting go." Megan whispered as she elevated the bed, softly squeezing the brunettes arm before leaving the exam room. "Someone called here early this morning and said they were going to come visit you right about now, so I'm gonna go let her in. I'll come back in to check on you around lunch and I'll also see if Iris can make time for you today." 

Mckenna let out a sigh of relief as Megan left the room, leaving the two of them alone. "I'm not saying it's Zoe about to come in the room, but it's totally Zoe. John called her and asked her to come visit you while he was working with Sameen and Harold." Delaney turned her head towards the door at the snap of stilettos clicking against the floor outside the exam room door, her eyes glassy with tears as Zoe Morgans voice rang out clearly in the hall. "Oh, so you're ignoring me now? That's rich."

" _Stop haunting me._ " She pleaded, her good fingers gripping her sheets. 

Her jaw dropped as a familiar face entered her vision - wearing her signature classy red dress that clung to all the right places and her scarlet stilettos on her feet. "I never thought the day would come where someone would beat you so badly that you'd be hospitalized for it. I'm kind of disappointed." 

Delaney felt her muscles contract as she began to laugh, only for pain to radiate through the lower part of her body. "Woman, I have two broken ribs. Please stop making me laugh - Oh Lord it _hurts._ "

"When was the last time you laughed like that?" 

"A while ago." Zoe grinned widely as she removed her heels and pulled up the side chair to the bed. "What are you doing here?" 

"A certain ex-assassin with an enormous heart called me up and said you needed a friend." 

/////////////////

"So you want me to go to the clinic of this doctor you spend so much time in and talk to her only patient? In a blocked off exam room?" Iris Campbell persisted, her cellphone pressed against her ear as she followed the directions given by her sister Kat. "Doesn't that sound a bit suspicious to you?"

"This woman will be your most important patient by the time you're done talking to her, Iris. She's a good woman haunted by the things she's done. Don't be surprised if she completely disregards your feelings and forces you out. She's not very open." Kat cursed under her breath and heaved a sigh. "Fusco is on my case again for being on my phone. When do you start working as the therapist at the 8th?" 

"I have an interview next week, so probably sometime after that." Iris replied, stepping into the alley and lightly rapping on the side door Kat had instructed her to use. "I'm at the clinic. I'll call you back later, and then we can go and get Chinese at that little corner shop for dinner. I'm already starving." 

Kat managed a warm smile. "Alright. I love you Iris." 

"Love you too." 

Megan Tillman met her at the door, dressed in her lab coat with her auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was clearly exhausted from taking care of patients since nine o'clock that morning and having very little time to sit. "You must be Kats sister." She greeted. "I'm Megan Tillman. We're very good friends. Are you here to talk to Delaney?" 

Iris adjusted her pantsuit and nodded, stepping inside the secluded hallway and following Megan to the first exam room on the right. The young doctor lightly rapped on the door and poked her head inside, drawing Zoe away from her conversation with Delaney. Iris quietly folded her hands and waited - feigning a smile as Megan opened the door and allowed her to step inside. "Thank you Doctor Tillman." 

"I'm about to step out for lunch. When I return, I will need you to leave so I can do another exam of my patient." Megan stated curtly, her coat billowing in the breeze flowing through the clinic as she stepped out of the makeshift room and left the three women alone. "Go easy on her, if you can. You won't be able to tell but she's been through alot. More psychologically then anything else." 

"Good morning Miss Campbell. Your sister told me alot about you." The injured brunette commented curtly, grinning as the other woman gripped the wheelchair and rolled her to the opposite side of the bed. Iris took that moment to examine her newest patient properly. She was tall and well built, with stunning amber eyes and long dark hair loosely pulled back into a ponytail. Her fingers on her left hand were fractured and splinted, and there was a deep purple bruise blossoming over her cheekbone. Kat had not given her the details of what she had been through - but it was the eyes that gave her away. "Zoe, would you mind giving us a moment alone?" 

The woman she called Zoe nodded and brushed past the therapist, quietly shutting the door behind her. "Kat told me that you were a therapist. I should warn you, I've got a-lot more baggage then probably anyone else you've ever counseled. I'm a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off." Iris pursed her lips and motioned to the chair that Zoe had previously occupied. 

"May I?" 

"If you please." 

Iris took the seat by the bed. "Everything you are feeling is normal, Delaney. Do you mind if I call you that?" Iris questioned, taking her small nod as confirmation. "I've been counseling cops and veterans for the past five years, and I've seen alot of what goes on inside their heads. Most of the time it takes at least three sessions just to get them to open up to the horrors they witnessed. That's why I don't plan on pushing you into anything. Not until you're ready." 

Delaney tapped her fingers on the wheelchair in deep thought. Iris seemed like a capable enough woman and more then willing to listen to her, but what was the point of talking about what happened in that warehouse? "They kidnapped me to exploit my husband." She whispered. "John and I have known one another since we served together. Got married a couple of months ago, blah blah blah. The people who kidnapped me fractured my fingers, nearly broke my cheekbone, and beat me senseless just to get the slightest bit of information on the thing I work for. I have never been so.. exposed." 

"How did they torture you?" 

Delaney's eyes narrowed, missing the outline of Zoe standing outside the door almost as if she was waiting for things to go wrong so she could step in. "I don't think that's any of your business, Miss Campbell." She snapped. "If you want to know the specifics of how cruel people are, go ask your sister. I'm sure she knows."

"I mean no offense-"

"Of course you don't. No one does." Delaney held up her hand with her palm facing towards her face, rotating her wrist inward and extending her index finger towards the door. "You act as if you know the things I've been through, but you don't. I don't care if you have been through the Academy. That doesn't prepare you for the damage that people can do to you. I've seen the first hand effects of guns and chaos of war. That is _nothing_ compared to what they did to me in that warehouse. You can see yourself out." 

Iris stood to her feet with no argument and quietly shuffled out the door, making her way past Doctor Tillmans RNA and back out into the alley. Zoe rose an eyebrow and poked her head inside, snickering as she watched her friend struggle to raise herself back into the bed. "That was the sassiest thing I have heard you say in a seriously long time." She responded, holding up a bag of their favorite Chinese food. "I just got a phone call from John. Want me to call him back?" 

"Yes please." 

Zoe redialed Johns cellphone number and handed the phone to Delaney, taking her place at her bedside again to open up the boxes of Chinese food. She felt her breathing hitch as the dial tone cut off and his voice filled the speaker, clear as day. 

" _Hello_?"

Delaney breathed a sigh of relief. "Hello love. You sound as bad as I do." 

"We're having a bit of a problem on our end. Finch is gone and the enemy artificial intelligence is almost ready to come online. For lack of a better word, we're screwed." A pregnant pause ensued by Roots frantic voice. "I don't have a lot of time, baby. Are you okay?"

"I wish I was with you. I feel like a bomb is going to explode in my head and I don't know what to do about it." 

"You just focus on getting better. I'll need you for the real fight ahead. I'm lost without my partner." He murmured, sending chills down her spine. "I know what you're feeling. Like everything is your fault and all you want to do is wreak havoc. That's normal. But you can't let that define you." 

Had it been the week before, she would have confidently been able to tell him. Now as Delaney sat confined to an exam bed with a full view of her injuries and impenetrable claws digging into the flesh of her shoulders and gripping her neck like a vise, she stated the only thing her mind had been thinking since she'd woken up. 

"It already has." 

John inhaled sharply, screwing his eyes tightly shut to try and drown out her words. He'd been praying since leaving her in Megan Tillmans clinic that she wouldn't become identical to the man he had been during his time in the CIA. A cold blooded, ruthless murder fueled by the guilt and rage over not being able to protect the one person he loved more then anything else. 

He'd become a machine. 

"I love you Del. I promise I'll see you soon." 

Delaney smiled widely and rested her head back against her pillow, dropping noodles into her mouth with her chopsticks.

"I love you too."


	47. Deus Ex Machina

_She wasn't in Afghanistan this time._

_Instead of being forced to re-watch McKenna die in the dark, vacant streets of London she was instead sitting on top of a building in Manhattan. Gunfire rang as she brought her knees up to her chest, desperate to drown the ringing in her ears until that same familiar form made his way onto the rooftop with her._

_"Something is coming John! You have to get out of here!"_

_John seemed oblivious to her presence as he uploaded something to the remote dish beside her. Sunlight glistened against his skin as he whipped back around only to be riddled by bullet holes._

Harolds petrified cries of his name mixed with her screams were enough to make her shoot up out of her sleep, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. It had been four days since coming to the Clinic - two since she'd gotten most of the strength in her legs back and working with Megan on physical therapy for her fingers. It was fortunate that it wasn't her gun hand. "You want to go and help John?" Megan protested. "You're a fast healer Delaney but it'll take much longer for your ribs and fingers to heal. You aren't _strong_ enough yet!"

Delaney whirled around after slowly pulling on the clothes Zoe had brought her the day before, her hair loosely braided after the bath she'd taken the night before. She was at the worst anyone had ever seen her - but cuts were cuts and bruises were bruises. "My husband needs help. My brother needs _rescued._ I'm not just going to sit in here and let them die for me. Not if I'm not there to protect them." 

"Are you gonna kill the man who tortured you?" 

She exhaled deeply through her nose, thankful for the pain killers she'd been feeding on since she'd woken up in that bed. Adjusting her leather jacket, Delaney Reese turned towards the doctor who had enough compassion to take in a broken, beaten woman and nurse her back to health. "You're a good woman, Doctor Tillman." Delaney murmured. "Don't ever let the world change you." 

***

Delaney inhaled the crisp, clean New York air as she stepped out of Megan Tillmans clinic and onto the street. Passersby regarded her with pity and scrutiny as she passed them, stopping at the bodega down the block and fishing her earpiece out of her jacket that Zoe had sneaked into the pocket. " _Root? Shaw? Can anyone hear me?_ " She questioned. "I'm at one of the bodegas in downtown Manhattan."

"Delaney! Man, have I missed your voice!" Sameen proclaimed. "Are you well enough to be back on your feet? John could use your help in the courthouse. He and Hersh are held up with the trial and rescuing Finch-" She pressed her thumb and index finger against the bridge of her nose, cursing under her breath as she fished out the money Zoe had left her with the night before. "So tell me, what were the doctors orders?" 

"I'm not exactly someone who follows orders, Shaw."

"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard considering you _are_ a doctor." She retorted. 'Seriously though, you were worked over pretty bad. What's the prognosis?" 

"4-6 weeks healing time. Splinted left hand, bruised ribs and my face looks like it lost the war. But I'm standing, I've got enough strength, and I'm going to find Peter Collier and kill him. That's what I'm going to do." Delaney managed a weak nod at the bodega cashier as he slid her water bottle and bag of chips back in her direction. "Right after I eat my snack." 

Shaw snorted beneath her breath and allowed her eyes to flicker to Root, who was continuing to work on Samaritans servers. "So, you're going to kill Collier? What happened to the innocent ex-CIA agent too good to kill people?" She questioned. "I thought you'd made a vow to never put a bullet in someone elses head." 

"That was before that douche bag stole what was left of my innocence." Delaney growled, stepping back into the street and surveying her surroundings before sliding her spare handgun into the waistband of her jeans and flagging down a taxi. "I'm on my way to the courthouse now so you've got about ten minutes to be able to explain to me what Samaritan is and why an artificial intelligence wants to kill me." 

***

She found herself on a roof of a building overlooking a courthouse, plagued with Decima agents surrounding Greer, Harold and Collier. Delaney breathed heavily as she gripped her gun, waiting for her prime opportunity to make an entrance and end Peter Colliers life for good. 

" _You aren't a killer, you know. That's not in your blood. You've been saving people since your career started."_ Mckennas voice chided inside her head. " _You don't want to do this, Del."_

"You don't dictate my decisions, Ken. Not anymore." She growled, grip tightening on her weapon as she leaned inward to gain access to better hearing of the words being exchanged between Finch and Greer. 

"He doesn't have to die. Not anymore!" Harold pleaded.

"Oh Harold, but I'm afraid he does! And it's all because of the thing you built. What a piece of work is your Machine, Harold. In action, it's like an angel. In apprehension, it's like a God. In twenty years time, life on Earth will come to resemble the myth of the Ancient Greeks. A pantheon of super intelligent beings will watch over us using human agents to meddle in our affairs."

"Or they may simply destroy us all." 

"One can argue we've done a fair job of that ourselves. And as you know, Gods are not so easily born. And in order to bring mine into being? I needed a devil and an victim. That is why your dear friend Mrs. Reese was taken." Delaney clenched her jaw in rage as Harolds eyes widened considerably. 

" _Vigilance?_ You let one man destroy one of my colleagues for _information?!_ " 

"And she did much more then that, your dear Del! She gave us enough information on your Machine to work with - the poor thing could barely handle the torture Mr. Collier performed on her. If anyone should have the pleasure of killing him, it should be your friend." 

Turning her back against the wall she hid on, Delaney inhaled sharply and fought back a wave of tears, her grip still tight on her weapon as the conversation behind her faded in and out. She rested her head against the bricks, desperate to control her erratic breathing - until her eyes fell on the wedding ring still tightly secured on her finger. 

_For better or worse, until death do us part._

"This is for us, John." 

Harold let out a startled cry as she rushed out from behind the wall just as the sky exploded in a blaze of fire, the bottom of the courthouse exploding from the massive bomb detonating inside. "Sooner or later the truth will come out." Peter whispered, gasping sharply as a single shot rang out and his hands slid upward to the area above his heart which had begun to bleed deep scarlet. 

"Three may keep a secret," She spoke, drawing Harold and Greers attention to her as his top Decima agent came at her from the side only to meet the end of her handgun and stumble, if only for a moment. "If two of them are dead." Her eyes flickered up to meet the cold, blue calculating irises staring in partial awe and admiration as she gave a mock bow. "Mr. Greer, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance again but I can't let you kill my friend here. Especially not after finding out that it was you who put me through hell in that God forsaken warehouse." 

"But you took your revenge, didn't you? And now the two of you will be alive long enough to see the world that Harold here has created. The time has come for your God and mine to do battle, and regrettably our paths diverge here." Greer nodded to his accomplice to fire the shot, only to be completely thrown off balance by the shots of someone elses weapon and the ferocious bark of none other then their Belgian Malinois. 

John then chose to emerge from the shadows, shoving Harold and his already injured wife behind him and using himself as a shield as he fired at the remaining Decima agents around Greer. When they were out of the line of fire, Harold immediately reached outward for the brunette and tightly enveloped her in his arms despite the fact he was very much afraid of the new woman she'd decided to become. 

"I missed you, my dear Del." He whispered, taking her face in his own and brushing his lips against her forehead. "We weren't sure what happened to you, and if it wasn't for Miss Campbell I'm not sure we'd ever have been able to find you. When John told me about-"

"My tracking chip he planted on me years ago? They took it out." She lifted up her wrist to reveal the bandage Megan had put there several days before, peeling back the adhesive to show the raw skin beneath. "I'm a fast healer Harry. It doesn't hurt that much." 

"I assume that Miss Groves filled you in on Samaritan and its capabilities." He pondered, pursing his lips as she gave a quick nod. "Alright then, it seems that you're filled in on the matter. I think it's time for you to go and see your husband now. He's been worried sick about you." Harold winced as Delaney brushed her fingers against his injured shoulder, causing her to furrow her brow in concern. "It's nothing more then a graze-''

"I'm the doctor here, wise guy." She mused, peeling back his jacket to examine the wound. It was not infected but was definitely in need of proper care and bandaging when she had access to supplies. "I can take care of that when we get back to the Library. Is there even one to get back to?" 

"Yes. We should make our way there now, Miss Groves and Shaw are sure to be on their way back here soon enough." 

They arrived at the Library by the early morning. Delaney had expected to be completely exhausted by the arrival - but not enough to the point where John was literally forced to carry her up the stairs. "Thanks Romeo." She whispered, wincing as he tentatively set her down on her feet before wrapping his arms around her waist to hoist her in the air and bury his face in her neck. " _John-_ " 

"We're okay now darling. No one is ever going to hurt you again." He whispered. Tears filled her eyes as Delaney hid her face in his shoulder, her fingers sliding up her neck to curl in his salt and pepper hair as he lightly kissed her lips and smiled while Harold removed his jacket to allow Delaney to examine his gunshot wound. 

"This is really a superficial graze. It never went through you, so there's no profuse bleeding either. It should heal fairly quickly." She remarked, applying pressure onto the bandage before taping it off with surgical tape and resting his jacket back over his shoulders. "Diagnosis: I think you'll live." 

"Well that's reassuring coming from the woman who made a career by sewing people back together again!" 

Their bickering was halted by the urgency in Roots voice - which blared over their comms and caused them all to focus back on the matter at hand. "You three need to get out of the Library, _now._ It's not safe there anymore." 

"Root? Are you and Shaw-" 

"Card catalog by the window, top drawer on the right." John moved to the side of the monitors and followed her directions, pulling out three packed envelopes filled with everything they'd need to mold to their new identities. "Your new identities are inside - she went to the trouble to make sure Del and John continued to stay a married couple. Just thought I'd inform you." 

Delaney silently thanked the Machine as she pulled out her new name, snickering at the bold print across her ID. It was simple and completely fitting of her and John. 

**_Delaney Riley_ **

"A name as simplistic as I am. Go figure." 

"You have to destroy everything else." Root demanded. Finch emptied his own envelope and glanced at the items inside. 

"I take it your plan to stop Samaritan was unsuccessful?" He questioned, his peripheral vision focusing on Delaney as she slowly relaxed in Johns embrace, the ghost of what once was an embarrassed smile on previous occasions flickering across her bruised complexion as he whispered in her ear. 

Finch was unaware of what had happened in that warehouse. 

But whatever Peter Collier had done to Delaney Reese was enough to make her revert back into the woman who John Reese was desperate to keep hidden - the killing machine fueled by revenge and guilt. 

"Any chance we had of stopping it ended when we didn't kill the Congressman." 

Her eyes widened as she turned her head to face John, who pressed his lips together in a thin line at the mention of an unnamed Congressman. "You tried to kill a Congressman? What else aren't you telling me?" 

"I posed as a Secret Service Agent and nearly got killed in the process?"

"Are you _kidding me?_ I was gone for a WEEK. How did I miss all of this?" She halted her sentence as Root broke through the comms once again, her voice holding a strong sense of surrender. "So what was all of this really about, Sam?"

"It was never about winning. It was just about surviving." 

Delaney allowed her gaze to fall back onto the new ID in her hand. Ever since that night in London she had wanted nothing more then a clean slate; a chance to start over without carrying any of the burdens and mistakes she'd made on the previous attempt. Almost akin to a computer, this was her restart. Most people only went for one, but she was planning on two. Maybe three. 

**_Delaney Riley_ **

**_Homicide Detective_ **

"I've always wanted a chance to live a life without regrets. Maybe this is that chance - a chance at something we never thought we'd get to live." 

_"The Machine and I couldn't save the world, so we had to settle for the eight people who may be able to take it back. So we gave Samaritan a blind spot - eight key servers that hard codes it to ignore eight carefully crafted new identities. When the whole world is watched, filed, indexed, numbered, the only way to disappear is to appear. Hiding our true identities inside a seemingly ordinary life."_

As they ventured out of the only home they'd ever really known and out onto the street, Delaney Reese felt an odd peace that had long since escaped her. It didn't matter to her that they were on the run, or that an enemy AI was looking to eliminate them one by one. It didn't bother her that she was no longer the same woman who had begun working for Harold Finch as an ex-alcohol addict and combat veteran or the woman who had stolen John Reeses heart. 

She was a new and improved version of herself. 

**Restart - COMPLETE**

" _You're not a free man anymore, Harold. You're just a number. We have to become these people now, and if we don't they'll find us and kill us. I'm sorry Harold. I know it's not enough. A-lot of people are going to die. People who might have been able to help. Everything is changing. I don't know if it'll ever get better, but it's going to get worse. The Machine asked me to tell you something before we part. You once told John that the whole point of Pandoras box is that once you've opened it, you can't close it again. She wanted me to remind you of how the story ends. When everything is over, and the worst has happened... There's still one thing in Pandoras box."_

_Hope._


	48. Cope

_He walked inside the loft to find her huddled against the wall, rocking on the heels of her feet with her fingers tightly threaded through her hair. Had it not been a normal occurrence, John would've dismissed it as an after effect of her torture. But when John heard her broken whimpers as he came home from his first week of work in the Narcotics division of the NYPD, it broke his heart because she didn't deserve to be so haunted by mistakes that weren't hers.  
  
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Delaney yelled, angry tears rolling down her cheeks as she struggled to control her erratic breathing. It was rare for her to be so traumatized, let alone vulnerable, and here she sat inside their darkened loft screaming at ghosts that had yet to tear themselves from her. "YOU DON'T BELONG INSIDE MY MIND. YOU'VE BEEN DEAD FOR YEARS. Please-" Her voice broke off as she hurled the flower vase on the side table beside her bed against the wall, motionless as the glass shattered against the wall into a thousand shards. "Please stop haunting me."_

_Pieces. Pieces of a real heart - mixed with precious memories of once happy times, tragedies, pain and loss, joy and peace. That peace she had not felt since the day she had agreed to work for Harold Finch and the Machine. That bone settling, unidentifiable peace that no longer existed.  
  
"Baby," John whispered as he knelt down in front of her, tentatively wrapping his fingers around her wrists to hoist her to her feet. "Delaney, you need to look at me." Delaney shot up in an attempt to dash away from John, but she was no match to compete with Johns strength. He pinned her between his arms, using his hands to trap hers above her head as he slowly aligned their bodies against the wall. His eyes remained solely focused on hers as she thrashed in his embrace to escape his grip, murmuring incoherent words to herself. "Please look at me." _  
  
He would never forget that destroyed look that flashed across her face - one of a woman consumed by her grief and terrors that lurked behind her eyelids at night.  
  
" _She won't leave me." Delaney muttered, relaxing against his body as he released her hands and moved his hands to curl around her hips. "Ever since I was with Vigilance, McKenna has been following me everywhere. I just.. She keeps telling me to let her go and that I'm only seeing her because I **want** to see her. I just.. I just want to get away."  
  
"I've been in your shoes. I've been in that place where you want nothing more then to just allow yourself to succumb to darkness - to forget that searing pain inside yourself and not have to feel anything. But I didn't let it consume me, not to the point where it would swallow me whole." John dropped his voice as he dipped his head down and ghosted his lips over the bare skin of her shoulder to trail kisses up her neck, down her jaw, and to her lips. "You are not alone, sweetheart. Never. I made a vow to you.. I don't intend to break it." _  
  
_Delaney slid his coat onto the floor and moved her fingers to unbutton his shirt, her tongue darting out to lick at her cracked lips. "I love you." She whispered, her voice hoarse in the silence of the darkened apartment as John rested his forehead against her own, lightly swaying back and forth in sync with one another. They reveled in the feeling of skin against skin - the gentle brush of his fingers against the warm flesh of her stomach, the ghost of her lips against his jaw, the whispered words of affirmation between the two of them as John moved them to the bed. "They-they told me that I would have no worth once I left that cell. That everything I was good for; my hacking skills, my medical expertise would be worthless because I was so traumatized by it all.. I just want you to know that I love you. And I hope you love me despite my demons and my faults-"  
  
"I will love you despite all your imperfections. If there's a demon or two on your shoulder, I'll help defeat them." John threw back the blankets from the opposite side of the bed and managed a flirtatious smile.  
  
"Are you flirting with me through facial expressions?" Delaney deadpanned. John grinned widely as she sank into her side of the bed and sighed deeply as his side of the mattress dipped with his weight. "You're a teddy bear, Mr. Reese. A charmingly sexy, salt and pepper teddy bear with a niche for knee capping people." He loosely wrapped an arm around her waist and allowed his hand to travel to her stomach, softly kneading the flesh there as her eyelids began to flutter. "G'night handsome."  
  
"Goodnight Mrs. Reese." _  
  
It had been a long and hellish trail of working towards her goal. John had made it a priority to spend as much time with her as possible; whether or not it was cooking lessons in the kitchen, a late night movie, a walk in Central Park or working a case together at the Precinct. The more time that went past, the more he noticed the little things that he hadn't seen since before rescuing his wife from Vigilance.  
  
The gentle curve of her smile.  
  
The glowing flecks of orange deep in her amber eyes.  
  
The color returning to her cheeks when he cracked a pickup line.  
  
Her fear of not being able to leave the house without having an emotional breakdown slowly morphed into a weekly trip to the gym, and then became every day sparring sessions between the two of them. Much to the displeasure of their dear Sameen Shaw, who was working as a beautician at a local makeup store - courtesy of her new identity provided by the Machine.

When she'd finally stepped into the Precinct and accompanied John on cases - the most interesting part of working with the Homicide Task Force was bickering with Lionel Fuscos partner Kat Campbell. Despite Kat being in her late twenties, the woman was incredibly intelligent and didn't take scrutiny from her male colleagues. She was confident in her decisions, didn't take no for an answer, and worked around the clock to bring difficult cases to a close. To Delaney, Kat was everything she'd ever wanted to be. Smart, strong, confident, loyal.. and incredibly humble. 

So whenever John was called in to work a case with the 8th, the two women almost always stood back to admire their male partners working with one another. 

" _Does John always do that?"_

_"Oh, that brooding I'm-such-a-tough-guy-on-the-outside look? All the time. It's like he wants to exude his masculinity to anyone who dares to challenge him. That's why his relationship with Lionel is so great because he always calls John out on his crap. It's hilarious!"_

Little by little, her happiness began to reveal itself. Delaney found herself taking Bear (when they had him) on more walks, standing out in the sunshine and sighing at the warmth as it spread across her skin. This was only the beginning and she still had a long way to go from here, but getting to look at the life in New York made her feel rejuvenated in a way she hadn't experienced since marrying The Man In The Suit. 

Speaking of John... _where was he?_

***

"You know, you could call me once in a while. It'd be nice to know that you aren't dead in a ditch somewhere." Harold looked up to examine the owner of the voice and managed a smile as Delaney knelt down to greet Bear. "Harry. I miss you." 

"Likewise, Mrs. Riley." Harold murmured, turning his attention back to John who looked rather set on his choice to pursue their newest number. "If you, or Sameen, or Delaney attempt to intervene with any one of these numbers, you will surely find yourselves dead." 

"We have to do something!" 

"We have no _resources_ , John! The Library is gone." Bear whined and rested his head on Delaneys thigh as she took her seat beside John. He wasn't wrong - It was incredibly high risk to pursue a number with the five of them on the run from the enemy ASI. However, if it came down to saving a life or risking their own; John was sure to choose the latter to accomplish the former. "Don't you understand? They're always watching! We can't even talk on the telephone. There _is no_ sanctuary. You can't just be the Man In The Suit. You two are both cops, I'm a professor. That's just the way it is." 

_Everything works out the way it's supposed to._

"We don't need jobs Harold." John remarked softly. "We need a purpose." 

"The world has changed John. I'm sorry." The couple watched as Harold stood to his feet and sat Bears leash on the picnic table. "For the time being, I think he'll be happier with you." 

"Well," Delaney responded, deep in her own thoughts as Harold turned his head to gaze down at her. "If it isn't about helping the numbers anymore, then what?" He inhaled deeply and turned his eyes towards the camera several feet away from their spot. 

"It's about survival." 

***

She found herself in Times Square that same night, comfortably tucked into the passengers seat of the car as John kept an watchful eye on Ali Asan, their newest number who ran an electronics store deep in the Bronx. John absentmindedly traced shapes on the outside of her thigh as he followed in on the conversation between Ali and Link. "Ali is tracking Links phone. Keep an eye on him." 

Delaney nodded to her husband as he exited the car, leaving her vulnerable for the first time in months. She inhaled deeply and tightened her grip on the weapon tucked into the passengers door, double checking the locks on the car before turning her attention back to her phone. "Looks like he's sending a text.." Her voice faltered as she and John both read the outgoing message at the same time. "Okay, no I'm totally wrong. It's a detonation code!" 

"The battery is a bomb. Ali's not the victim, he's the perpetrator!" 

She kept her eyes set on the corner John had run around, gasping as the sky lit up a golden hue of flames from the supposed bomb Ali had built into Links phone. John reappeared around the corner and pressed his hands against his knees, lifting his eyes to meet her awed gaze from inside the car. She unlocked the door and grinned wickedly as John slipped inside the drivers side and started the car. "You're getting old, Mr. Reese." She mused, snickering as John shook his head. "Even I could've kept up with that car." 

"I stopped a major bomb from blowing up the block." He replied matter-of-factly. "I haven't seen you do that in years. Next time there's a bomb threat, _you_ can handle it." 

***

When they returned to the Precinct, John and Fusco decided unanimously to interrogate Ali inside the box, which left Kat and Delaney alone with one another once again. "You look like you could use a good cup of coffee." Kat commented, flashing a smile as Delaney regarded her warmly and stood the cup from her hands. "It's crap, but it's warm and it'll keep you awake."

"I'm always game for cheap coffee." She replied. Kat pulled out her desk chair and the two women were silent for a brief moment as they slowly sipped at their drinks. Delaney took the time to really look at the other woman - her eyes slowly scanning the most prominent features of Katherine Campbells face. From the soft cheeks to the brightness of her eyes, the dark tresses that cascaded down her back and the determination in her face. "I wanted to thank you Katherine." 

"Please, please just call me Kat. I only get called Katherine at family gatherings." She mused. "Thank me for what? I haven't done anything to be thanked for." Delaney set down her empty cup and wiped at her mouth with her leather jacket sleeve, propping her feet up on Fuscos desk. 

"You were one of the first ones who saw me after.. _that_ happened." Delaney recanted. "You convinced Megan Tillman to nurse me back to health and even came in during that four day period just to.. sit there. It was nice to know that I wasn't about to be judged by a total stranger. Ever since you've just been very open to me and I don't think you know how much I appreciate it. Plus, your sarcasm is so funny to watch play out when you're working with Fusco. I like how unafraid you are." 

"Believe me, I'm very afraid. I've just learned how to bury it." Kat flashed a wry smile from behind her coffee cup, both women turning to the door of the box as John and Fusco emerged with Ali behind them who looked rather distressed. "Hey you two, what's going on?" 

"We have to get back to the store." John demanded. "Del, you're with me. Campbell needs to stay with Fusco." Delaneys eyes flickered between the three Detectives until landing back on her husband, who looked as if he needed to leave rather urgently. "Delaney, _come on._ " 

"I'm heading back to the Precinct." She replied coolly. "If you really want to make stupid choices, call your Mayhem twin. She'd be more then willing to accompany you." Kat snickered as she watched Delaney leave with John hot on her heels, turning back to face her partner who looked equally amused. 

"Back to work, partner?" 

"Sure thing Fusconator." 

***

_Can_

Her work was halted as the comm-link in her ear began to rasp, almost like a voice that had forgotten how to speak.

_You_

Delaney allowed her eyes to flicker around the Precinct from behind her desk, fingernails digging into the wood as she finally found her target; Samantha Groves was standing beside the desk sergeant with her eyes firmly locked on her. 

_Hear_

"Why?" She whispered confusingly. "Why are you speaking to me? You haven't done it before." 

_Me?_

Root sashayed across the Precinct and subtly winked at her friend, who she had not seen since John had brought her back to their loft the first week of their new lives. "You look like you've seen a ghost." Root mused. "Or heard one. What's wrong and where's your husband?"

"Shaw went after him when he went on his own suicide mission. Let's just say he's probably unconscious in her car right now." Delaney replied. "I decided I'd come back and attempt my half of the paper work, and now I'm hearing the Machine in my comm-link. It's never happened before." 

Root furrowed her brow and tilted her head, almost as if she too was hearing the Machine through her cochlear implant. "That's interesting. Kind of intriguing that she can talk to you even without a cochlear implant like mine. What did she say?" 

" _Can you hear me?_ " Delaney repeated, clenching her sore hand to try and release the tension from hours of consistently writing. "That's it. Just asked if I could hear her- nearly made me scream in the process because it was so sudden."

"I wouldn't be too worried about it. She's spoken to Shaw and John too.. probably just the first time you're really hearing her."

Her eyes flickered around the Precinct before she stood to her feet. "I'm dying to get outside. Want to take a walk with me until I get a call to rescue my idiot husband?" 

The two women walked around the outside of the Precinct- cracking jokes and retelling old stories to one another. It was a rare sight to see- two women in the middle of a cyber apocalypse out in the open, sunshine beaming across their faces and laughter tangible in the air, one of their only moments of happiness in months. It wasn't until her phone began to vibrate that Delaney knew that John was desperately in need of her help. "Romeo trying to get your attention?" Root chortled, grinning widely as a deep blush spread across her face. "Bless. He's always falling back on you when Shaw won't cooperate. Maybe my dear Sameen finally has her head on straight." 

"That sounds like you're trying to nonchalantly confess you have a thing for Shaw." She quirked an eyebrow as Roots eyes widened, and this time it was her turn to blush. 

"I do _not_ have a thing for Shaw!" 

_Text from Romeo_

_I seriously need your help. There's a bottle of your favorite wine involved if you help - and maybe a little something on the side. Meet me at this address - it's the new hideout of our friend C.E._

"Looks like John has learned how to subtly flirt over text message as well." Delaney huffed, giving a mock salute to Root as she moved towards her car parked in the precinct parking lot. "Until we meet again, my dear Root!" 

"Until our paths cross again, my dear Del!" 

She thought about the metamorphosis in her relationship with Sam Groves since she'd kidnapped Harold back in her earliest days of working for Team Machine; how she'd threatened to kill Root on numerous occasions when she'd been locked in the cage at the Library. Now they were hiding from an enemy ASI on the hunt for the five of them - and eventually, Samaritan would win. 

Because no matter what they did, Samaritan was more capable then the Machine was. Strong, quick-witted, relentless, powerful. They were hopelessly outmatched but it didn't mean they were just going to _give in._

_"You can come back from this. Harold helped me come back from my own abyss-" Root leaned over the king sized bed as the brunette stared back at her wide eyed, face pale and lips unmoving, It had only been a week since they'd been forced into hiding, and while John had started working as a cop, Delaney had spent much of her time confined to the loft. "You're stronger then this. I know you are- because you could've killed me a long time ago and chose not to."_

She parked her car outside the address John had given to her, heading inside the building only to be greeted by a tall, broad shouldered man who looked as if he could kill her with his thumb. "Purpose?" 

"My husband is here. I'm a friend to Elias." He outstretched his hand and motioned towards the basket, where she reluctantly sat her phone and continued inside via the staircase. At the dimly lit table in the middle of the room sat John and Anthony with Carl Elias sat between them. "Ah, my darkly humorous psychic. Pleasure to see you again." 

He'd noticed it immediately when she'd entered the room - the lack of confidence, the slight limp in her left leg and the darkness that loomed behind her eyes. When they had spoken last, that same darkness had not been quite as visible. Elias felt a pang of guilt in his heart at the sight of Delaney Reese - because she was surely not the same woman who had come storming in with Detective Jocelyn Carter and backtalked him as if she owned his establishment. "Delaney. It's a pleasure." Elias replied curtly, motioning to the chair at the end of the table. "Sit, if you will." 

"Thank you." 

The three of them were brought glasses of champagne- which John immediately moved out of her reach and replaced with a bottle of water he'd snagged from the Precinct. "It's been too long John. What have you been up to?" The pair simultaneously flashed their NYPD badges and feigned a smile. 

"It's... complicated." 

"Well, now that is an unexpected development." Elias marveled. "What can I do for you, _Detectives?"_ Delaney leaned forward and pressed her elbows against the table all the while clasping her hands together, her eyes focused on the kingpin in front of her. 

"We're looking for information on a gang called the Brotherhood. They kidnapped a kid, and quite frankly I'd like to get him back." 

"Sorry to say I don't know much about this Brotherhood-" 

"It's run by a guy named Dominic." John replied. "We haven't met yet and I'm hoping we never will." Elias' eyes flickered to the woman in front of him, shivering under her intense stare before he turned back to John. "They're squeezing the kids old man to build a communication network that the cops can't tap. They gave him a deadline - midnight and they'll kill his son." 

"Why midnight?" 

"Might have something to do with The Whale. I heard they're bringing him in for a meeting." Delaney murmured. Elias smirked and lightly shook his head before taking a sip of his drink. 

"The Whale isn't a person, Delaney. It's a shipment of heroin that comes up 4 times a year from Mexico. It's driven to a location, usually a house and for one night it's the most protected house in the city. And there it's cut and packaged for couriers waiting to deliver it all along the Eastern Seaboard. HR used to handle The Whale but since their demise the cartel has struggled to find a reliable partner." 

"Could be Dominic creating his own opportunity." 

"Ambitious _and_ smart. Reminds me of me in my youth. Little advice Detective, maybe stay clear of this Dominic." Elias jabbed a thumb at the brunette at the end of the table, drawing her out of her trance. "And if he can't, you'll make sure he will." 

"I'll do my best, but he's relentless. Won't be easy." She replied. 

"Despite her best efforts," John interjected. "I'm afraid I can't do that, which brings me to the other reason I'm here. I'd like to hire you." 

***

After John had negotiated a deal with Elias, the two of them moved to leave only for Delaney to be halted by Elias. "Delaney, if you would stay for a moment? I wanted to ask you something." He called out. The gun in her waistband shifted as they glanced back at one another before John placed a kiss on her brow. 

"I'll be at Hasans store. Come find me when you're done, okay? I'll call on Shaw for the next part. She'll be enough until Anthony gets there." Delaney nodded weakly and turned back to the Kingpin, taking her original seat at the opposite head of the table as Elias drummed his fingers against the wood. 

"Do you remember the last time we spoke?" He questioned, to which she only nodded. "You were very keen on finishing my bourbon and back talking every opportunity you could get. I was quite impressed at your demeanor in the face of a gang leader - but there is something different about you now. Something more.. _haunted._ " 

"What's your point?" 

"There is a darkness looming in your eyes that was not there upon our last chat. I wanted to warn you to not let that darkness consume you." Her blood turned to ice as he removed his glasses and set them on the table, revealing eyes much older then her own with many more stories to hold. "Because even though I don't know what you have been through, Mrs. Reese.. I know that there are people who deeply care about you and would give anything for you to not push them away."

"I'd urge you not to meddle in my affairs. I'm not someone you want to trifle with - especially in this state." 

"In _what_ state?" He persisted. 

" _In my restart."_ Delaney snapped. "I appreciate your advice, Elias. I really do. I'm going to do everything in my power to not do as you said, but losing people is inevitable. I have a ghost-" She motioned to the right side of her body. "Of my best friend who follows me everywhere I go. I have yet to _release_ my best friend, who has been dead for years! I-I'm learning how to _cope._ " 

"I hope you can learn to cope. Because if you don't... the next place your husband sees you will be six feet under." A shiver ran down her spine as Delaney stood to her feet and moved to leave the basement. "Anthony should be arriving to the scene of the Whale here shortly. I'm sure we will meet again." 

"I really hope we don't." 

And then she was gone. 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and pulled up Kats cell-phone number, prepared to send a text as she stepped back into the open and into the drivers side of her door. 

_Text message: Sent to Kat Campbell_

_Meet me at the salon near the 8th. I want you to be there for this._

_Message from: Kat Campbell_

_Be there for what?_

_Text Message: Sent to Kat Campbell_

_The beginning of my restart._

***

Snip.

"This is a privilege." Kat marveled, snapping photos from the chair beside her. "Getting to watch you cut your gorgeous hair? What is your husband going to say?"

Snip.

"I had short hair when we met. He'll just have to learn not to pull on it so hard when he kisses me." Delaney mused, sending the two women into fits of laughter. The stylist smiled from behind her and ran her fingers through her newly cut hair, parting it to its original style and handing her a mirror. "Oh Jan, it looks[wonderful!](http://maliatale.tumblr.com/post/105348119536) Thank you so much!" 

"Your husband isn't going to be able to pick his jaw when he sees you, darling." She drawled, unsnapping the apron and brushing the hair onto the tiled floor. "Go on ahead and pay the clerk, and come visit me sometime again soon!" Delaney flashed a brilliant smile as she slid a ten dollar bill to the clerk, motioning for Kat to follow her back out onto the sidewalk. 

"John's gonna kill you." 

"I couldn't care less. It's my hair. He'll learn to deal with it." 

The two women began to walk towards the Precinct when her phone blared _Hurt_ by Johnny Cash, Johns caller ID photo flashing on the screen. "Ah, speak of the Devil. What do you have to say now?"

"You never showed up to The Whale!" He exclaimed. "I was wondering where you were, and then Kat Campbell of all people sent me a photo of you _cutting_ your hair?! Why?!" 

Delaney smiled broadly as Kat nudged her with her hip on their way back to the 8th precinct. "I wanted something to make me remember my restart. I want to be proudof something other then my marriage. So I cut my hair - which means you can't tug hard on it anymore." She ran her hand through the silk, short tresses as she and Kat bounded up the steps of the precinct. "What's so important? You sound like a giddy child on Christmas."

"We've been promoted." 

She snorted so loudly that Kat couldn't help but burst out into fits of laughter. "Seriously? Who in their right mind would promote us?" Both pairs of eyes flickered towards Fuscos desk, where the IT consultant was now working on the desk behind where John now stood. "Oh good lord, we've been promoted to the Homicide Squad. How did I get here? I didn't even help with this bust." 

"You got credit. Thank Sameen for it later." John murmured, motioning to the desk behind his own. The Rileys leaned against his desk and crossed arms over their chest, smirking as Kat followed their suit and all three pairs of eyes fixed on Fusco, who only laughed in response. 

"Welcome to the 8th." 


	49. Walter Dang

"I trust I can leave you to do the technological work on our newest number, Mrs. Reese?" 

"It's not like I have anything better to do. I already sent the Mayhem twins out to Washington Heights to look into the death of Walters co-workers brother Abel Mendler. I'll keep you posted." 

It had already been a strenuous morning traveling from the Precinct to do paperwork and then to the Subway, their newest home away from home that the Machine had given to Finch through the typos in his dissertation. John had been rather displeased at the fact that he had to work with Sameen instead of his wife, but at that moment in time Delaney felt much more comfortable under ground than in the crowds of New York. 

She was constantly at war with herself. A larger part of Delaney knew that if she emerged from the tunnels and voluntarily chose to stay in the open area of New York that she could protect herself if it came down to it. But the small, nagging voice in the back of her head kept repeating the same thing over and over again.

Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. 

"I'm not weak." She growled, absentmindedly rubbing at the gaps in the functional brace enclosed around her knee. After her return to the living from the Vigilance warehouse, Doctor Tillman had made it a priority to begin physical therapy to regain the lack of strength she had from continuously re-injuring the same body part. Delaney was still capable of incapacitating a perpetrator, but she had been forced into PT sessions twice a week by both the good doctor and John. ''I was just strong for too long."

"Hey babe," Johns voice called out, drawing her from her trance as her eyes snapped up to the article displayed on Finchs laptop. "Walter is at a sketchy hotel in Washington Heights. I'm texting you the address. Maybe he's got a drug problem we don't know about." 

"It could be something worse." Delaney replied. "Elena said her brother Abel committed suicide by jumping off of a fire escape at that hotel." Her eyes narrowed out of confusion as she re-read the article. "What is Walter up to? What's the point of returning back to the location of a co-workers family death if he can't do anything about it?" 

John pursed his lips. "Well, right now he's checking out the fire escape. Maybe it's to hide evidence... He does have a gun." Her fingers sped across the keys as Delaney pulled up the NY gun registry and began searching for Walters name on the registry.

"Well, that's illegal. It's unregistered. Are we sure Abel Mendlers death was a suicide?" Her phone pinged with a new message from Kat and Fusco, detailing that they had both sent over the police reports from the investigation into his death, "John, I've been looking into the police reports that Kat and Fusco sent over. It's possible that Abels suicide wasn't." 

John sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was hoping you weren't going to say that." He muttered. "What do we know?" 

"Abel Mendler, driver of a truck company. Got laid off a year back and lost everything." Delaney read off of the file provided to her by the NYPD. 

"Well, but people off themselves for less." John said. Delaney snorted out of amusement and lightly shook her head. 

"That's what everyone assumed. Elena even said her brother was depressed. Here's the thing, according to the report one hotel guest reported that she heard loud male voices before Abel went all flying squirrel." 

"And no one thought to follow it up?"

"You know as well as I do that people are stupid." Delaney replied. "The woman admitted she was drunk and the cops didn't believe a single thing she said. I can't say I'm surprised because I probably wouldn't have believed her myself." 

"And you know as well as I do that Abel didn't die voluntarily." 

She suppressed the urge to grin widely at the lighthearted tone of Johns voice. "I wonder if this is how we would've acted as partners when I came back from London. Two incredibly attractive people with an uncanny ability to flirt shamelessly and-" 

"As much as I'd love for you to continue that sentence, I'm afraid we have to keep to the matter at hand. Whatever is going on here, Walter knows something. Where did that spare sim card Shaw told me about come from?" John questioned. Delaney pushed her chair up against the desk and began hacking into the SIM card, scanning the history for any sort of communication between Walter and Abel. 

"Hacking into a system is like breaking down a wall. Once you've broken down the impenetrable, you're fully able to see everything that's behind it. Secrets, lies, regrets, every part of a persons existence down to the smallest detail."

"It's Abels sim card, but there's nothing here as to communication between him and Walter. Oh, but some guy named Banks Van Hess did text Abel. Alot." 

"About what a stupid name Banks is?" He deadpanned, peering into the darkness as Walter emerged from his car at the port authority and curved around the front of the car to speak to the security guard at the side door. 

"No, as funny as that would be. They constantly talked about important deliveries, which would make sense because Banks runs the port authority at a local airport." 

"Walter's just arrived at an airport now." John murmured, crossing his arms over his chest as he listened into their rather abrupt conversation.

"You got eyes on him?" Delaney pondered, standing to her feet and ambling across the room to greet Bear who had only just woken up from his nap. The Belgian Malinois whined and lightly nudged her knee brace, almost as if he was confused why his Master was wearing one in the first place. "It's alright boy. Just something to keep me from shattering my knee like I normally do. Plus-" She bent down low on her right leg, outstretching her left one and passing it over Bears head. "It's lightweight and easy to move in. I'm the most graceful crippled ninja on this side of New York." 

"Detective?" John exclaimed, nearly causing her to topple over and onto the dog as she poured more water into his bowl. "He's trying to play off as a Detective?! That's like signing his own death sentence! Is he serious?"

"Well what do you know husband? Looks like we aren't the only ones trying to be cops!" A breathless grin spread across her face as Delaney collapsed in the chair and pulled her knees up to her chest, using her foot to kickstart the spin. It had been months since she'd allowed herself to smile. This job she and John had been working didn't allow the happiness that other people got to experience. 

She would take anything she could get. 

Her smile dissipated as multiple gunshots rang out from Johns side of the line. "Problem there, hotshot?"

"Looks like it. I'll get back to you. Go Shaw!" 

A clang sound drew her away from the computer and back towards the subway car, where Bear was leaning back on his haunches with his head tilted towards his food bowl. Delaney slowly stood to her feet and moved in his direction, ruffling his fur as she poured food into his bowl only for him not to dive into his only meal of the day. "Come on sexy." Delaney whispered, running her hands across his mouth and pinning his ears back against his head. "Why won't you eat?"

She sighed deeply and pulled out her cellphone to dial Harolds number. "Hello?" 

"I guess drastic times do call for drastic measures, Harry." Delaney said. "Bear has gone all Belgian supermodel on me and won't eat."

"Do me a favor and put him on." 

She quizzically rose an eyebrow and shrugged as she pressed her phone against Bears ear, grinning as his body language immediately changed at the sound of Harolds voice which softly prompted him to dig into his food. "Thank you, oh God of everything that is good and pure." 

"Oh, don't flatter me." Harold mused. "Is there something else you need?" 

"I just wanted to double check on something. Is it still possible to recover deleted text messages?" She asked. "I think there's more to this then I'm seeing and I want to cover every possible option." 

"Well, not from the SIM card if it is as damaged as you claim it is. Did I or your friend ever teach you about the Cloud?" 

She had done thorough research on the Cloud upon working her first real number in correspondence with the Machine. Harold had fed her bits and pieces of new information since, but most of it had been done through her own research. "I'll take a look into the Cloud now. Thanks Harry." 

"I will see you upon my return, Delaney." 

***

After a rather shocking discovery of what Abel had been smuggling into the City with Banks Van Hess, Delaney immediately fled the subway and fled to the location where Johns GPS had last pinged off of the closest cell phone tower - only to find him and Walter pinned down by the same weapons they were looking to get rid of. 

John smiled apologetically at the assassin with his empty clip in the air, only to find his wife staring back at him with two hand guns tightly secured in her waistband, donning her signature red leather jacket and mussed hair that she hadn't cared enough to style. "Who are you? Cause it's pretty obvious you're not a cop." Walter questioned, his eyes flickering to the woman as she beamed with pride at John. "And who's the hot lady?" 

"This hot, crippled, graceful lady just saved Johns life for the umpeenth time." She prattled, replacing her current clip with a full one as her amber eyes flickered to the escape car John had used to drive. "I assume we need to get that monster gun out of the prying eyes of civilians. Let's go somewhere we can't be seen." 

While John had chosen to drive, Delaney sat in the passenger seat with her weight shifted towards Walter, pestering him with questions about his alias Detective Jack Forge, his investigation into Abel, and why he cared enough to look into a suspected homicide. "I wanted to do something to give Elena closure." He remarked softly, allowing his gaze to fall to the ground as John put the car in park. "Even if meant risking my own life." The three of them watched as Fusco, Kat and Shaw pulled into their rendezvous point and exited the car. "Are you a superhero or something?" 

"Not even close." 

Have you ever seen those slow motion walks to introduce a character in actions movies, where they're deviously smirking and things are exploding in the background? Well.. according to Walter, that was how their entrance looked. "Yeah." Walter said in awe, his head snapping back and forth between the couple before looking back to admire the two cops and ex-assassin. "Yeah you are. Lionel, you are so lucky." 

"Now we know what Abel and Van Hess were smuggling into the city." Lionel stated, watching as Shaw leaned up against the hood and began to examine the massive rifle. "The real question is, how many?" Walter peered over Delaneys shoulder curiously and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"What is it?" He asked.

"Barrett XM 109." Shaw remarked. "HE rounds, highly explosive and only used in anti material weapons. Can shred a bullet proof vest like paper." Walter turned his head back toward John as he spoke next. 

"Bullet proof limo too. Weapon like this could wreak havoc on the city." 

"How-How do you do that thing with your voice?" Walter asked, in which Delaney broke down in hysterical laughter, propping her hands against her knees to steady herself. "What is so funny? Why's she laughing at me?" John turned his attention towards his wife as she straightened her posture and wiped the tears from her eyes. 

"Aw man, I really am growing to like you Walter." Delaney praised. 

Shaw cleared her throat. "So who's our big bad? The guy who hired Abel and Van Hess to deliver the gun and then killed him?" 

"Walter, the man who called you on Abels phone," Delaney asked, running a hand through her short amber locks as she leaned against John, who proceeded to lightly trace circles on the inside of her wrist. It wasn't a largely intimate gesture, but it was the furthest they ever went in public. "Could you tell anything about him??"

"Yeah. He was really really scary!"

Kat snorted indignantly from beside Fusco. "Wow, genius detective work!" She mocked, snickering underneath her breath only to be berated by Fuscos sharp stare. "You must know something. The men John fought off... They tried to abduct you. Not kill you." 

"Well, it felt pretty killey to me, okay?! I'm sorry. I don't know anything." 

The five of them all sighed and Shaw was the first one to turn back to her vehicle. "Del, you can stay with Reese this go. I'll go back to our hideaway and run tech support from there. Maybe trace the calls Walter got." Delaney grinned wickedly as Fusco moved to scoop up the rifle only to be intercepted by Kat, who immediately heaved it over her shoulder. 

"Sorry Lionel. Gotta let the women have a turn. We'll get this back to the 8th." 

Walter turned back towards the pair with eager eyes. "So, where are we going?"

"On an adventure." 

***

<From here to the end is a bit of a fragmented time skip!>

Their adventure ended with Walter nearly being kidnapped by Anthony, Elias' main lackey who attempted to open fire on John and Delaney inside the Precinct. "Sorry Detectives." A deep male voice called out. "He's coming with us." Walter cast petrified glances at John and Delaney, who both were poised to fire as they pursued Anthony to the main doors of the Precinct. 

"John?" 

Delaney weakly shook her head, her aim faltering as a flash of blond ran past her vision. 

"Delaney?" 

You wanted blood. Here's an opportunity to take it.

Her heart nearly stopped when that same voice broke into her earpiece, completely drawing her away from Walter being thrown to the floor and John firing his weapon at the glass windows. 

"There is no need for blood shed. You kill Anthony, you start a war with Elias." The voice of the Machine chided into her ear, slowly prompting her to lower her weapon and slip it back into the waistband of her jeans. "If you have to resist the urge for anyone, do it for John." 

The longer she thought about it, the more it made sense. She'd been craving revenge ever since her escape from the Vigilance Warehouse. What if the Machine had been speaking to her because it wanted to keep her from falling into herself, from taking blood to justify the loss of what was left of her innocence? 

"Del!" Fusco barked, snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Your husband's about to leave you in the dust. You comin' with me to the safehouse or going to see Elias?" Her brow furrowed in confusion as she slowly turned back to their quad of desks, where Kat was bent over and scribbling furiously. "My partner's staying behind to work on paperwork. You come with me and you're the hired gun. Sound like a plan?" 

"Absolutely. I've had more then enough of Carl Elias recently. I'd like to keep my good mood intact if at all possible." 

***

They pulled up to the curb a block away from the safehouse, Fusco and Walter in the front seats with Delaney casually lounging in the back. Walter turned his weight towards Fusco and casually slipped his glasses into his suit pocket. "So, I've got questions for both of you. For starters, Delaney how long have you been married to John?" 

"Hm. I lost track of time because I've known him for so long, but I'm pretty sure it's been almost a year. Little less. We never had an official wedding at the courthouse, or a wedding for that matter. We just kind of.. got married on our own terms." She confessed. 

Walter then turned his attention to Fusco, who was watching the man keenly through narrowed blue eyes. "And you? How long have you been working with him?" He asked. 

"My partner? A couple of months." 

"No. I don't mean Detective Riley. I mean John. I mean, you know. Secret identity, few years right here in New York? I wanted to ask you about that." His further statement was halted as Fuscos phone blared out, and John further proceeded to explain to them that Abels phone was a treasure map to the people looking to kidnap Walter because it had the coordinates of the missing supply truck. 

Delaney sucked in a sharp breath as a black car pulled up beside their own, two men pointing handguns at both her and Fusco as a third rounded their vehicle to drag Walter out of the passenger seat. "You move one inch and I'll blow your head off!" The man snapped. She made no move to rescue the older man as he frantically cried out Johns name, her husbands thick form appearing in her peripheral vision before gunshots rang out and he fell onto the street. 

"Fusco, you're driving!" Delaney shouted. "I'll get John!" 

"Are you a doctor?!" 

"I am the Doctor in this squad!" She yelled, kneeling down to wrap her arm around Johns waist and hoist him upward to slide him into the back seat of the car. "John has been shot more times then I can count, and if it wasn't for me, he'd have been dead a long time ago. Now get into the car and drive." 

John let out a string of curses as she sat him behind Fusco, slamming the opposite door shut and crawling into his lap. "If you wanted to make-out in a car," He whispered lowly so only the two of them would hear. "All you have to do is ask." Her eyes were inches away from his own as she drew her pocket knife to cut into the soiled dress shirt. "Fine. Cut it." 

She slashed through the material with ease, sinking into his embrace as his fingers wrapped around her hips, squeezing tightly when she began to pull apart the skin sticking together with his own blood. "There's an exit wound." Delaney murmured, reaching into her satchel with the opposite hand and pulling out a pack of gauze pads. "Missed your major arteries, but your deltoid is going to hurt like the dickens later." 

"Ow." John whined as he rested his head against the seat cushions, watching as her nimble fingers worked to tie off the wound with surgical tape and gauze. Her lashes brushed against the soft tops of her cheekbones as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, a commodity for whenever she was deep in thought. 

"Baby." Delaney mused. She lifted her eyes to meet Johns only to find they were growing heavy - he looked like he was on his last limb for the day. "I have morphine somewhere in here. I'll fill up the syringe to give you what you need, and when we're done we'll go home. Does that sound like a plan?" 

"Absolutely." He whispered, using his opposite hand to gently grip her chin in his fingers, forcing her to lay her forehead against his own. "I love you. You know that?" Delaney shivered at the intensity behind his words and nodded, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

"I know. I love you too." 

They arrived at the coordinates provided by Shaw where the Armorer was supposedly holding Walter captive to find the missing supply truck and the surplus of crates the rifles were contained in. The three of them jumped out of the car and hid behind the only forklift in sight - weapons drawn and ready to fire. "Drop your weapons!" Fusco yelled.

The African American man merely smiled and extended his arms. "Gentleman, Ladies!" He called out. Delaneys eyes widened as several more hitmen emerged from the building, scattering through the parking lot with weapons capable of a faster firing rate. "Finish them off."

An eager glint flickered in her eyes as Delaney turned to her husband, flicking the safety off on her weapon. "Remember how you always said that you were the better shot?" She mused. "Ready to be proven wrong?" Her ears rang as both sides began to open fire, most of her bullets making their mark by impaling their target in the head, heart or lungs. John watched her calm demeanor from his peripheral vision as she reloaded her clip simultaneously with Anthony and another one of Elias' men, who too began to fire on the opposing side. 

Only moments after their altercation, the ringing in her ears faded and all of the bodies that had once been standing were now in multiple heaps scattered along the parking lot. 

Well, until Walter ran across the parking lot and saved Delaney from a bullet to the spine. "DELANEY!" Both of them whirled around as he jumped in front of her, only to take a bullet to the arm while Delaney took a step forward and shot the other man point blank in the center of his forehead. 

"I got you shot and let you down." Walter panted, his eyes narrowed as the two of them worked together to prop him up against the forklift. Delaney managed a small smile as John took his glasses and slid them back onto his face. "I'm sorry." 

"You did good by me Walter. You saved my wife." 

***

After providing Walter with a sling and pain killers, John made it first priority to return him to his place of work. She patiently waited inside the car for John, fingers lightly drumming the steering wheel since she had agreed to drive back to the Loft. 

"You aren't looking for me as much. That's better then you looking for me at all." Her eyes flickered to the back seat where sure enough, Mckenna was looking right back at her. But instead of a clear, concise image of the blonde; specific features had become blurred. 

"I have people to save." 

''I thought you had people to kill."

Her breathing hitched as the blurred form of her best friend vanished into smoke almost as soon as John re-entered the car, careful not to move his wounded arm in the sling across his chest. "Things take time. It'll dissipate." She whispered, turning her attention to her husband. "Are you ready to go home?" 

"I haven't wanted my bed so much since before I enlisted." 

She stopped by the market a block away from the Loft to restock on their lack of groceries before taking John home, immediately unloading their stock of food before doing anything else. When she had unloaded and tossed the bags in the trash, she turned back to a silent apartment and a brooding husband. "Probably best I take a look at your wound." Delaney murmured, discarding her jacket on the island in the kitchen and ambling into their room, which also connected to their small dining room. "You gonna take off your shirt or do I have to take it off of you myself?" 

"If you're offering to strip me, I'm not going to say no." John mused weakly, wiggling his eyebrows as she snickered and snatched up her satchel, then took her seat on the bed across from him. His weary cerulean eyes watched her keenly as Delaney slowly unbuttoned his shirt as if she were unmasking the most gorgeous piece or art to grace the Earth. "What's the diagnosis, Doc?" 

"You're a quick healer like I am, but it's going to scar." She replied, wrinkling her nose as she tossed his shirt in the direction of the trash can. "You have a surplus of white dress shirts. I'm sure you'll live." 

As she moved to pull out new dressings for Johns wound, he wrapped his fingers around the hem of her teeshirt and moved to remove it. "You don't need this in here." He murmured quietly, slowly removing her white shirt and tossing it on her side of the bed which only left her in a camisole and jeans. John sighed as Delaney continued to redress his wound, allowing himself the opportunity to explore her bare skin. "You've got more scars." 

"You can blame Vigilance for that one." Delaney replied bitterly as she taped off the gauze pads with surgical tape and took out the roll to wrap it around his arm. "They made sure to give me more." 

Wrapping his hand around her hip, he allowed his fingers to creep upward to the outline of the bone and rest there, Delaney leaned into his embrace and hooked her legs over his own, the inside of her ankles resting against the small of his back as he pulled her as humanly close to him as possible. 

No words were exchanged as John slowly ran his fingers up her arms and cupped her elbows, lifting his head to meet her curious amber irises which seemed to be watching him with an equal look of awe and adoration. The ghost of a smile crept onto his face as she curled her fingers around his neck, resting them at the nape to play with the ends of his hair. 

"I can't remember the last time you let me touch you like this." John said, his voice barely audible as he ran his hands up her arms to tangle in her hair. She let out a soft moan as he lightly tugged on the oak colored strands and dipped his head to her chest to place kisses on her collar bone. "Or kiss you like this for that matter." 

Delaney inhaled deeply at his touch, making no attempt to move as his ministrations sent shock waves down her body, causing her toes to curl in the process. "I was afraid." She confessed. "Afraid I would mess up what we made for ourselves. It's a beautiful thing, a relationship like ours. I didn't want to poison it."

His fingers curled around the outer part of her jaw as his kisses became needier, desperate to close the gap between the two of them. She knew that the threat of Samaritan terrified him as much as it did her. Hiding under the radar of an enemy ASI was sure to get one of them killed at some point, especially with them constantly looking for ways to bring it to its knees.

"You can't poison someone that's already tainted."

Not smut - maybe if you squint 

She succumbed to both of their wants almost as soon as the words left his lips - attacking her mouth with his own and sending her crashing on her back against the mattress. She was careful of gripping his wounded arm as he lightly teased her lips apart with his tongue, grinning into the kiss when she easily complied.

"You make things too easy, darling." He whispered, pulling away by slowly pulling on her bottom lip. Delaney let out a whimper as John moved to remove her tanktop, tossing the garment to the side which had only left her in a nude bra and faded jeans. He paused when she swallowed thickly - her gaze averting to the ceiling as her eyes filled with tears. "Did I do something-" 

"No. It-It's me. I just don't want you to think you can hurt me.. It's been a while since we've actually done this. I'm fragile, oh yes. I just don't want to be too fragile that we can't do this." 

John paused to consider her statement and found himself realizing that she was right; they really didn't get to have the perks of a normal marriage with the career paths they'd taken. "I promise you, I won't do anything you don't want to do. I will never hurt you, Delaney." He said softly. She lifted her head and ran her hands up Johns chest, taking her time to admire the arrangement of scars; like notes erratically scattered along a piece of music. 

"Please." Delaney murmured. "I want to do this. I want you. I love you." 

The ferocity in her kiss as John unhooked her bra ever so slowly did not go unnoticed. 

When she woke up the next morning to the smell of freshly cooked breakfast on the side table and the sound of the water running, it was the first time Delaney had genuinely smiled. Not because he'd gone the extra mile for her and didn't treat her as if she was anything less then she was, but because of the note card neatly folded on her breakfast tray. 

I'll make up for all the years

that I was supposed to be kissing you. 

\- John Reese


	50. Point of Origin

"You're kidding me right." Delaney deadpanned, glancing back in the direction of the new therapists office. John glanced upward at her from his mountain of paperwork and flashed a wicked smile; one she had learned to fall in love with a long time ago. "When you said a good counselor, she was not who I had in mind."

"C'mon, you're being way too hard on her. Iris is a good counselor _and_ she's Kats sister. You like Kat! What's the difference between the two of them?" He questioned, resting his chin in his hand and tucking his pen behind his ear as he faced her. "You promised me that when we found one you would go for weekly appointments. And if I have to do it, so do you. Delaney Riley does not break her promises." 

She cursed underneath her breath as John flashed her an sympathetic glance - his blue eyes shining brightly underneath the overhead lights of the Precinct. Lightly tapping her earpiece, the brunette ran a hand through her hair and signed another form before adding it to the mountain of paperwork at her right. "And what does my dear Harry have to say about this?" Delaney questioned. "My husband is bullying me!"

"I'm afraid he is quite correct, Delaney." Harold chided. "You did promise him that once a counselor was found that you would go. Despite the fact it is Miss Campbell, the least you can do is try." There was silence for a brief moment as she struggled to find a witty comeback - only for Harold to completely shut her idea down. "I'm not letting you work our new number until you give in. Might as well say yes." 

_"That's not fair!"_ She whined, her amber eyes flashing over to John as he hurried to gather his coat and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek before making his way to the Academy; Iris Campbell had given him an endorsement to be the new tactical weapons adviser for the newly trained recruits.

"Do you want to know what isn't fair, Mrs. Riley?" Harold murmured. "Breaking promises to a man who loves you more then just about anything else in what's left of this world. The least you can do is try to be reasonable. Go visit Doctor Campbell, get to know her. It'll do you good... and it'll make me feel better."

Her heart melted as his voice went silent before cutting off entirely. Harold had been incredibly protective of her before, but ever since he had seen her after her bout with Vigilance and had heard Johns story, there was a newfound sense of protection that had washed over the reclusive billionaire. The three of them had been working together for so long now that Harold had come to consider her as a sister. 

"Alright Harry." Delaney said quietly, standing to her feet and meeting Iris' penetrating gaze from across the Precinct where Kat was aimlessly chattering into her ear. "But if I kill her, don't say I didn't warn you." The brunette flashed her equivalent of a warm smile as Iris opened the door to her office and motioned her inside. "Good morning Doctor Campbell. Sorry for the tardiness. I was working on that mountain of paperwork occupying the majority of my desk." 

Iris sat down in her chair and snatched up her clipboard. "It's quite alright Detective Riley. I was just checking in on your husband at his academy training exercise before I head off to the seminar I'm teaching later on this afternoon. I just wanted to touch base with you." Delaney folded her hands against her abdomen and paced Iris' office, her gaze locked on her feet as the redhead watched her keenly. "I'm well aware of your problems, Delaney. Despite the fact we did not get off on the right foot I would very much like to at least be _acknowledged_ for even fifteen minutes. We all have to start somewhere." 

She opened her mouth to bite back but instead found herself halted by Harolds words. _It'll make me feel better._

"Alright, Doctor Campbell. I'll talk." She said cooly, unlinking her fingers and sitting down across from Iris. "What do you want to know? 'Cause I'm assuming you're well aware that I won't grant you access to the deep dark secrets inside of my head until I manage to trust you." 

Iris leaned back in her chair and managed a smile. "How about the basic information first? Where are you from? How old are you? How did you meet John?" Delaney slowly exhaled and cleared her throat, prepared to answer her questions. As long as Iris didn't pry too deep into her past, she was fine with talking. Talking was what kept her _distracted._

"I'm from Rochester. I'm thirty four, soon to be thirty five. John and I met when we enlisted and served in Afghanistan and Iraq together. I saved his life multiple times when I was working as a combat medic. We were best friends forever and then we got married. He.." She swallowed thickly and evaded Iris' concerned gaze. "He's the only home I've ever known." 

"Home isn't in Rochester anymore then? What happened to your parents?" Iris gently pushed. She knew if she were to press too hard that she would immediately retaliate and leave the room before she could ask another question. "Any siblings?" 

"Home is the arms that encase me at night when I sleep. The salt and pepper hair I run my fingers through when he can't handle what's been thrown at him. His skin brushed against my own when I too fall apart after realizing how _cruel_ this world can be. The lips that reassure me that there is indeed something good in this world. _He_ is something good. John Riley is the only home I have ever known-" A deep red blush spread across her cheeks as her eyes once again fell from Iris'. "Oh. You meant Rochester, didn't you?"

"I did, but it's clear that I was wrong. Home isn't a place for you. It's a person." Iris smiled warmly and scribbled down _dedicated to her husband_ on the clipboard poised in her hands. "The way you love your husband is admirable. It's quite amusing how you two talk about each other." 

That caught her attention. The brunette ran a hand through her hair and leaned her elbows against the top of her knees, her dark eyes narrowed in on the woman across from her. "Wait a minute," She questioned. "Are you seriously telling me that John gushes about me the way I gush about him?" 

"Will you believe me if I told you yes?"

A wicked smile spread across her face. " _Absolutely._ " 

"How about this? I'll tell you what John told me at our appointment this morning," Iris held up a different color clipboard with the name **Detective John Riley** scribbled in her hand writing across the top. "If you be honest with me." 

She had been refraining herself from speaking her true opinion on the redhead since meeting her in Megan Tillmans clinic; Iris was not typically someone she would have trusted years ago, but John had been adamant since her return from the Vigilance warehouse that she get into therapy. He hadn't expected to be pulled in as well.. but if he trusted Iris enough to disclose information to her, why couldn't she?

_I don't trust you for one reason, Iris Campbell. You act as if you've seen it all, like you know what comes with a job where you literally lay your life on the line. You haven't been inside my head, inside my husbands head.. You don't know what tragedy looks like._

"Alright _Iris,_ " Delaney remarked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. "Where do you want to start?" 

***

"Hey Delaney. Got a second?" Sameen Shaw leaned against the back of her counter as her eyes locked on Root who was once again inside the store in deep conversation with a woman and a young blonde girl who looked to be around the age of 10. 

"Aren't you supposed to be working, at your _job_ , Shaw?" Delaney replied sarcastically. 

"I would be off the comms right now if I wasn't looking at a woman who looks exactly like you. She could be your twin." Shaw replied. From inside the Precinct at her desk, Delaney dropped her pen on top of her newest sheet of paperwork and clutched her chest as it became incredibly difficult to breathe. "Tall and brunette, a smile that could fell any normal man at fifty feet and a daughter who looks to be incredibly interested in Root." 

"Samantha." She whispered in awe. "Shaw, that's my older sister Samantha. The child is my only niece Marissa. I-" She swallowed thickly and ran her hands through her hair, catching the attention of Fusco who was sitting at his desk watching her with a concerned gaze. "I need to get over there. If they're there then Samaritan-"

"Would be able to find you and your cover identity would be blown. That's the last thing any of us need, especially John after he nearly lost you once. I don't want to see him get sentimental again." Shaw paused for a moment as she watched Root hug Samantha and ruffle Marissas blonde hair before the pair walked out the front door and back out into the street. "I hate to ask this, but doesn't your sister think you're dead anyway?" 

_Doesn't your sister think you're dead anyway?_

"Yeah." She murmured softly. "Man. Don't I make a terrible family member? I left London and everyone assumed I was dead. Then I got married, and I've been working under the nose of a reclusive billionaire and an ex assassin on the run from an artificial super intelligence that already tried to kill me. Wouldn't that be the ideal thing to say to your family in an email? Oh hey. I'm not actually dead!"

"You can't show yourself to her yet." Shaw replied. "Look. I know you and I haven't always been on the same side because we're so different and I suck at the sentimental crap. But you.. you're not a killer. You just think you are because of what Vigilance did to you. People like you are rare anymore. Take it from someone who knows.. don't let your mistakes and your misfortunes define your future. By you staying put and going to therapy, which is _hilariously ironic,_ you're saving your sister and your niece from Samaritan. Isn't that something to be commended for?" 

"They're my family!" She snapped unintentionally. 

"Okay, so family is important to you. I get that. I see it in you when you're with John. Same goes for him. Here's the thing though - doesn't family protect one another?" Shaw questioned.

Delaney rested her head in her hands and heaved a sigh. "Yes."

"Then what you're doing right now, sitting at that desk and filling out paperwork; going to your therapy appointments and attempting to make amends with Red, _that_ is you protecting your family. Not being reckless and allowing your cover identity to be blown by the enemy ASI just so you can make sure your sister gets on the subway and doesn't get killed in the process. What you're doing right now? That is _you_ protecting what is _yours._ " 

"I think that's the closest thing to poetry I've ever heard come out of your mouth." Delaney replied admirably. 

Shaw snorted and managed a forced smile at the customer closest to her. "Don't push me."

Delaney managed a watery smile as she wiped at her eyes, which also drew Fusco to look at her because instead of the normal illuminated brown orbs that were constantly shining; they were deep blue. "Woah!" He exclaimed. "Amber, your eyes- They're _blue._ " 

"I have to go, Sameen." She murmured, slipping her badge into her jacket and throwing it over her shoulder. "Thank you for keeping me in check. Just don't be surprised when I do the same thing to you." It completely baffled Delaney how her relationship with Shaw had turned out. Upon their first meeting, she had loathed her because it was ultimately both her and her partners fault that Mckenna had not been saved. As time passed and they spent more time training with one another, she admired Sameen for the many things they'd taught one another. 

Even if they were constantly on opposite sides, Shaw was her family. One of the five people who made up the small list of people she loved deeply. She would do anything to keep her.. well, _Shaw._

"Why are your eyes _blue?!_ " Fusco called out, grumbling as she waved over her shoulder and disappeared out the front precinct doors. 

***

_The Next Day_

_"Any updates on Silvas target, Mr. Reese?"_

John stood across the street from the Academy, casually leaning against the building as he watched their number, Dani Silva, sift through the trash as if she were searching for something. "No, but she's applying her lesson on curb searches by going through their trash." His eyes narrowed as he whipped around only to come face to face with his wife, who had immediately pinned him against the side of the building with much more force then he expected. "You aren't supposed to be here." 

"Oh, look at you. All domineering and protective. It's kind of hot." Delaney chided, crossing her arms as she released John from her grip and turned her attention to their number. "Besides, Harry told me I could work this number _if_ I made amends with Iris." 

"I bet that worked spectacularly." 

"She can believe what she wants. I'm not about to pour my trust into a woman I barely know. I'd rather tell my whole life story to a garbage disposal." She replied. "I gave her the bare minimum, and she's not dead. I'd consider that an accomplishment." John rose an eyebrow as she reached into her waistband and produced her newest hardware, "I found these inside Joss' old locker that never got cleaned out. They literally had a card addressed to me that said _For the birthday girl that never got her gift._ It's the gun Shaw had that night we went to the club back when Ian Murphy was our number. I will _never_ part with these." 

John smiled warmly as the two of them both turned back to the Academy. His eyes flickered down to the cellphone in his hand as it began to vibrate and two messages from Iris were delivered. "Finch, are there any clues on Silva's phone?" 

" _I've combed through the data. She's collecting personal information on all the other recruits. Phone numbers, email accounts, home addresses.. even locker combinations."_

"Great, there's a mole inside the Academy." Delaney huffed. "Just when we had flushed out HR."

_"Don't get too far ahead, Mrs. Reese. She may be searching for recruits that can be blackmailed."_

_"_ So the real question is, who is she working for?" John pondered. "Anything from Silvas date last night?" 

" _Shaw and Fusco followed him to the suburbs, so we're still working on it."_

John tapped his earpiece and turned back to Delaney, fumbling through his pocket and pulling out a half eaten sandwich he'd bought at a bodega earlier that morning. "Turkey and rye, limited mustard. Not your favorite but you're going to need to eat something while I fill you in on what's going on. Come on." 

***

They followed Silva back to a building in Manhattan where she'd been in deep conversation with Ortiz, the two of them splitting in separate directions for the day. Delaney and John moved to follow but found Iris Campbell staring back at them, standing her ground and ultimately separating them from their number. 

"Not so fast, Detective! You missed your appointment this morning." She exclaimed to John. "You're being evasive-" 

Delaney looked back at her husband, exasperated as her gaze flickered between Silva and John who looked identical to a cat trapped in a corner. "Iris, I don't mean to interrupt you but Detective Riley here has some _important business_ to attend to. C'mon John." 

"Sorry about that, I don't-" 

"We continue our progress?" Iris persisted. "Great idea." Delaney cursed under her breath and turned her cellphone on, jogging down the street and leaving John alone with their counselor as she hastily moved to get closer to their number. 

" _Reeses?_ " Shaw interjected. " _We've got a problem. Silva isn't a recruit, she's already a cop. She's hunting a mole inside the Academy and according to her latest entry she already knows who it is."_

That statement stopped Delaney short in her tracks and nearly caused John to topple into her, had her reflexes not done the job and slammed her against the wall instead. "You're kidding me." She deadpanned. "So she's undercover and we're about to blow it?" 

"Basically. Get her attention!" 

Delaney and John whistled sharply, drawing Silvas attention towards them as all three simultaneously ducked behind a row of parked cars to evade the bullets raining down from the SUV flooring it down the main road. She tightly wrapped her finger around the trigger, eyes locked on Iris' trembling form beside John as their car disappeared from sight. 

" _Hey lovebirds. We've been reading this all wrong. Silva isn't the perp, she's the victim."_

"And our undercover cop has just been outed." 

As John flagged down a taxi to return Iris to somewhere safer, Dani Silva took the opportunity to release her irritability upon the only woman in her line of sight. "You and your man were following me." She snarled, her eyes inches away from the brunette across from her. 

"Anyone would've noticed that." Delaney snapped in retaliation. "You first. And don't try to act all tough around me because I can pin you to the ground before you even make a run for it. I'm not to be tested with." 

"I don't have _time_ for this-" 

To prove her point, Delaney slammed the younger womans hand against the trunk of the nearest car, causing her to discard her weapon. Silva lashed out and gasped loudly as her arm was tightly pinned diagonally across her back and her head was pressed against the trunk. "I don't have time for people who underestimate me." She stated. "I can be nice to you if you have the courtesy enough to be nice to me. Sound good?" 

"Sounds _peachy."_

John pushed past her as Silva began trekking down the street. "So what are you, internal affairs? What does IA want with the Academy?" He asked. "Is there a mole?" 

"Look, I've already wasted enough time and right now I need to get to my handler. If I'm compromised that means he is too." She spat. 

"So we'll call him!" 

She sharply turned on her heel to face the couple behind her. "No, _nothing_ digital. Look I can explain more to the two of you later but right now I have to warn him in person." Delaney whistled in disbelief as John replied something she couldn't hear only to have Silva end their conversation entirely. "Just don't get knee capped like you did in training." 

" _Woah_ -" She said dramatically, throwing her hands in the air out of confusion. "You see, this is what happens when I'm sidelined for too long. _She_ kneecapped _you?_ The same guy who made fun of me for years because he constantly said he was always the better shot?"

"You're not helping matters!" 

"I will never let you live this one down, hotshot. That's going in the _things to egg John on_ box in my head." 

Their bickering was halted by Finch breaking through their comm link. " _John, Delaney, if Silva is Internal Affairs she isn't just our number. She's also a threat to your cover."_

"We've got it." She replied. "Save the girl, don't blow our covers, don't be reckless. Good thing Shaw gave me a rousing peptalk this morning about recklessness and compassion and everything Vigilance took from me. Maybe it'll give me enough self control to not let my trigger finger going flying." 

" _I think that would be in all our best interests, Del."_

_***_

After a long and thorough discussion about her apparent frame, the murder of her handler and where to go from there, Delaney lead the trio into their safehouse and immediately set her eye on the wine rack in the corner. "Don't you _dare_ go for the alcohol. Not now." John snapped. "We have to talk to Silva." 

"Drinking in a moderation is not a sin, you doofus." She replied cooly, pouring half a glass before bringing it to her lips. "Besides, it's like the cigarettes. I have full control over the temptation. Haven't smoked since before Carter died and haven't _really_ drank in just as much time. I promise," She ran her hand over Johns inner forearm and smiled warmly. "I'm not going back into that hole of addiction again."

John moved to the sofa and turned himself towards Silva, who was already explaining her sealed record to him. "I was a runner for The King. Where I'm from, it's not a choice. Once you're in it's either knocked up or locked up." Delaney furrowed her brow over the rim of her glass, crossing her legs at the ankles as she intently studied the younger womans body language. 

She was beside herself that her handler was dead. Tense shoulders, evasive gaze, shaking hands. There was nothing more that Dani Silva wanted to do then rectify the wrong and clear her name for his murder. It was admirable how much determination there was in her. 

Seemed to be that way for all of their numbers. The ones that toughened up in the face of danger, said _screw you_ at death, and the ones who overcame their fears. She admired them. Delaney admired _all_ of them for their undeniable bravery.

"So you got out?" 

Dani nodded firmly. "I got arrested. The judge said that if I attended community college that he would seal my record." 

"You've got to like judges who give second chances." John replied. She managed a faint smile as her dark eyes flickered towards the other woman in the room, who was now standing feet in front of her with a water bottle extended in her hand. "I promise it's not poisoned. That's not her area." 

"I'm a doctor. Everything is my area." Delaney replied sharply, sitting down beside John and leaning back into the plush couch cushions. "Please, don't let me interrupt you. Do continue." 

Silva took a sip of her water bottle and set it down beside her before clearing her throat. "I earned my Masters in Criminal Justice and got into the Academy. A week before graduation, Howard plucked me out. He saw my Juvy record and knew I had the perfect background for the next time someone tried to infiltrate the Academy."

"Oh, now _that_ in intriguing. There was a Russian mole called Laskey who worked for HR back when it was in power. Very similar story to you." Delaney said. "I think you two would've made great friends!" 

"Exactly. Howard got a tip from the CI that a gang was going to put a recruit on the inside." 

"And who better to spot a gangster then-" 

She held her hands up in disbelief. "One of their former runners." 

Delaney quirked an eyebrow and set her wine glass on the coffee table, her fingers wrapping around the silver pendant fastened at her neck. John leaned forward on his knees and slowly tilted his head to the side almost as if he was looking for a way to form his next question coherently. "Why no electronic record?" 

"Howard thought it made our covers look vulnerable. Everything is networked nowadays. Given the HR scandal and hackers.. He didn't even trust the IT techs." She grinned widely and ran a hand through her hair as the door flew open and Lionel stepped through with, his expression downcast as all three turned to face him. 

" _Only the paranoid survive."_

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news." He turned towards Silva and gave a swift nod. "Detective Fusco from the 8th. She's Kat Campbell." 

"So you two are the co-partners to these two?" Silva asked, jabbing a thumb at Delaney and John before pointing at Kat and Lionel. "I bet that makes for great conversations." 

"I assure you, you can trust us." Kat reassured. "All four of us. We're all on the same team here." She reached into the satchel on her side and pulled out a bank account sheet with all of her deposits labeled on it. "I hate to have to tell you this, but there was an anonymous cash deposit into your savings account yesterday." 

" _Ten grand? Seriously?_ " 

"Oh, it gets worse." Fusco interjected. "The weapon they found at the crime scene? That traces back to you too. You're wanted for the murder of your handler." 

The air left her lungs as Silva sat the paper to the side by her water and roughly ran her hands over her face, "Of course. They're framing me like I'm their lackey. The frustrating this is I _had_ him." She growled through her teeth. 

"Had who, Silva?" Delaney asked. "Was Ortiz the mole? Are you sure it was him?"

"Wow. You're better then I thought you were." Silva replied. "My gun at the crime scene? That's not a coincidence. He's the one who asked if he could clean it. And then I found this." She rummaged through her back pocket and produced a receipt she'd dug out of the trash can at the Academy. "A receipt from the bodega across the street from where The Brotherhood recruits. Ortiz used his ATM card. I'm going to find him and I'm going to bring him _in._ It's the only way I can prove my innocence." 

"Oh, resourceful and angry. I like her." Delaney murmured in awe. "Hang on. Let John check with RTCC and see if they can find him. Once we do, then the three of us go after him and you can work your magic. Sound good?" 

Silva smiled wickedly and shifted the slide of her gun backward. " _Sounds fantastic."_

***

Spanish Harlem. 

"Oh, this is going to be fun. I love getting in the middle of a gang war." Delaney murmured, checking her magazine before sliding her second gun into her waistband. "Elegant dinner says I cap more then you." John quirked an eyebrow as his wife cocked her hip and wiggled her own provocatively, her hand wrapped firmly around her weapon. "My conscience is telling me I'm not supposed to kill people anymore. That it's not my calling." 

"Is your conscience an artificial intelligence?" 

She grinned wickedly and nodded. "More or less. These idiots? I don't want to end them. I want to decimate every single Decima agent to _Samaritan._ Every time I try to kill someone who isn't a threat to national security or to one of us, I get scolded by the Machine. Most of the time she tells me to not do it in favor of you." 

"Seriously? Our AI tells you not to kill people for me? That's almost touching." 

Silva rounded the corner and frantically waved in their faces. "I don't mean to interrupt you love birds, but now is our window of opportunity. We need to take it." Delaney turned to John and shrugged before following Silva to the front of the school, Bear hot on her heels. 

They simultaneously slammed their weapons into the skulls of the guards outside, quietly stepping inside the building. John knelt down by a discarded teeshirt and held it up to Bears snout. "Find our mole boy!" 

Delaney grinned widely as Bear lead them into a classroom where two of the Spanish gang members and Ortiz seemed to be in the midst of an argument, cut short by the Belgian Malinois. She immediately went for the closest man and slammed her elbow into his nose so hard a _crunch_ echoed through the room, followed by his body slamming into the wall and rendering him unconscious. 

"Don't do it Ortiz." Silva warned, weapon trained on the man opposite of her. Delaney whistled sharply and smacked the side of her hip, commanding Bear to remain seated at her heels. "It's been you all along. Pretending to be my friend and planning my murder." 

" _Murder?!_ " Ortiz exclaimed. "I don't know anything about a murder! I was just trying to steal some files! I had no choice!" 

Both John and Delaney were stopped by Finch breaking through their comm link for the first time in several hours. " _I'm afraid he's correct, John. Ortiz's uncle works for the community center that Dominic runs. An elite defense attorney got him exonerated for a recent drug charge. The uncle was Dominics leverage."_

"Okay, so you know what I said about only wanting to take out Decima?" Delaney muttered. "I take it back. I want Dominic dead too." Her eyes flickered back up to Ortiz as she loosened her grip on her weapon and slid it back into her waistband. "Dominic forced you to steal those files, didn't he?" 

John watched in awe as she lifted her hands in surrender, her attention solely focused on fabricating a sense of security for the younger man in front of her. Once again, _compassion_ overruled her want for justice. Just like it always had. "You don't understand. Where I'm from you only have two bad choices!" 

Silva stepped around Delaney with her weapon still poised in the air. "You still only have two bad choices and one of them ends with you bleeding out." Ortiz fumbled for control as his hands shook, finally resigning to Silva and handing his weapon over to her. 

"It was only supposed to be one job." 

"With the Brotherhood, it's only ever just one job." John replied calmly. Before anyone could speak up, one of the thugs on the ground grunted as he leaned forward enough to slam his hand on a button beneath the desk, causing the alarm to blare throughout the fortified school building. 

"We've gotta go. This place will be flooded with angry gang members in a two block radius any minute." Delaney slipped her weapon back into her hand and flicked the safety off, cracking her knuckles as her eyes settled on Silva. "How much ammo do you have?"

"Not nearly enough." 

John lead them into the hallway. "Del, you stay behind me since you have more ammo. Silva keep your eye on Ortiz. She and I will take care of the rest." Delaney did as told, the slightest hint of a smirk visible on her lips as she fired at the two opposing gang members, who dropped like flies as each bullet made their mark. "Finch, we need a way out!" 

Her ears rang with the close proximity of each bullet fired as John lead them through the closest door that led to the swimming pool. She remained by the door with Bear at her side, waiting for the remaining gang members to break through their barricade. "John? Do you think we can hurry it-" Her eyes widened as an explosion rang through the air, nearly causing her to topple into the pool had it not been for Bear stopping her fall. "Up?" 

"Well, that looks dangerous." He commented, turning towards his wife who merely stared on in response. "You first!" Ortiz let out a stunned yelp as John shoved him into the pool, his instinct taking over as he began to swim through the makeshift hole in the floor. "He's scuba certified. Hop to it, Delaney!" 

Delaney immediately dove into the water, thanking her high school years of being on the swim team and developing a strong set of lungs as she broke through the surface of the hole and into the tunnel below. 

When they finally emerged, Fusco was waiting for them with handcuffs prepared to take Ortiz into custody for the murder of Silvas handler. Delaney pulled her hair into a makeshift bun on the top of her head, grimacing as Bear roughly shook the water out of his fur and soaked through her already wet jeans. "Well, if you're going to bathe the dog, that's one way to do it." She commented, disgust across her face as she glanced down at her clothes. "This was my favorite blouse." 

John snorted softly and removed his coat, settling it over her shoulders and lightly kissing the top of her head. "Your mole won't be too hard to break." He said. 

"Wanna teach me some interrogation tricks?"

"Something tells me you're a natural at that too." They stopped at the bodega on the corner, visible enough to the parallel street so Silva could flag down a taxi. "You're gonna do alright kid." She smiled warmly as John casually hung his arms over Delaneys shoulders, since she was a few inches shorter then him. 

"I know." She lightly nudged the brunette in the side and smiled mischievously. "It's gonna be a while before I see you two again. You going to keep him in line for me?" She nodded and extended her hand to firmly shake it. "You two keep running. Seems like you're good together.'' 

John glanced down at Delaney as she put her arms into his coat and tightened it around her form. "I think this is the most exhilarating night I've had in weeks. Felt good to slam my elbow into someones face and break a bone. You think Dominic is going to give us a problem?" 

"Probably. Not something we haven't faced before." He replied. 

" _And it'll come full force when our paths finally cross."_


	51. Meet The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why are you not grieving?! One of our own has been taken!" 
> 
> "I have endured far too much loss for a woman like myself. In a world like ours, loss is inevitable. It took me years to realize that. So if you want to know why I'm not collapsed on the floor hysterical over the loss of one of our own, it's because I can't be."

"Alright Harold, I took out the camera you requested. Anything else you want me or the Missus to do?" 

Delaney rolled her eyes at John and leaned against the wall beside Fusco, carefully watching the passersby inside the Stock Exchange mingle with one another and act as if the three of them weren't there. Almost as if they were ghosts. _That's all they were to anybody._

"We're with Lionel at the service entrance." Delaney murmured. "Kat couldn't make it. Has too many people watching over the four of us so she decided to take one for the team." 

"Well, at least we have Lionel. With Shaw having blown her cover, it's probably best that she stays out of the way. Besides.. five is better then four." Root replied. "We'll meet you upstairs." 

After careful examination of the problem and the massive surge in crime, the members of Team Machine had narrowed Samaritans next move down to the Stock Exchange, where they would do everything in their power to send it crashing. _Turn of a century._ Sameen had completely blown her cover and had gotten into a firefight with Martine, the blonde Samaritan operative that Delaney had not had the pleasure of meeting. 

She wanted to kill her. 

She wanted to suck the life out of Greers lungs and watch him fade away in front of her eyes. 

She wanted all of this to _end._

"Got room for two more?" Delaney commented, smirking as the three of them joined Harold and Root in the service elevator. "I do have one question though. If someone's trying to hack the market, wouldn't it be best to head to the trading floor?" 

"Ten percent of trades are conducted on the floor. The rest are executed by high frequency trade algorithms. It just so happens that those trades are processed in the servers downstairs." Delaney wrinkled her nose at the math lingo and took a step backwards towards John, who wrapped his fingers around her hip and lightly squeezed. A sign of reassurance he always made sure to do before entering a fight. 

"Which is where we need to go to deploy the counter measure." Root replied, lifting the silver briefcase she had been clutching in her hands. "We just need to get by the server rooms biometric palm scanner-" 

"And how do you suggest we do that?" John casually asked in response, moving his other hand to wrap around her opposite hip. Fusco rose an eyebrow at the sudden need to touch his wife, albeit if it wasn't intimately, in the middle of their charade to save the economy. 

"With some luck... and a little help from a friend." 

***

After the marks of a firefight flooded across the floor they had arrived on, the five of them found themselves pinned down behind a counter inside one of the break rooms on the floor. Delaney collapsed in between John and Harold with her hand firmly wrapped around her weapon, beads of sweat gathering on the crown of her forehead as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. 

"If Samaritan wants a fight, we're going to go down swinging." John rose his voice over the ringing of gunshots and turned his head to gaze at the people behind him. 

"Remember the Alamo!" 

Finch shook his head and slightly leaned his weight into Delaney. "More than a valiant last stand. What we need is a strategy." Delaney winced as another gunshot reverberated in the room and collided with the coffee maker, sending shattered remains of glass scattering along the tile floor. 

"Gotta agree with Harry on this one." She pressed, her amber eyes flickering down the line to where Root was tucked into the corner. "Little help here Root? I'd really rather not die today!" 

With a fierce determination in her eyes, Samantha Groves lifted her chin to gaze at the security camera in the corner where she knew that her guardian angel was milling over the hundreds of thousands of options to get her acolytes to safety and out of their current predicament. 

" _A little help please."_

**Option selected: 336,742**

"Got it." Root shuffled off her key card and handed it to Delaney while simultaneously handing the silver briefcase to Harold. "When we open that door, turn left Harold. You and I are going to the server room to hack the systems and stabilize the market. You three? Secure our escape route. Turn right and head to the mechanical room to cut the tension cable to the elevators lock." 

"How?" John replied urgently. 

Her eyes landed on Delaney who winced and pressed her ear to her shoulder. "Our mutual friend likes to speak to your wife in full sentences. I'm sure she'll tell you when you get there." They rushed across the room over to the wall beside the door. "Ready to roll?" 

The two women grinned wickedly at one another as John threw the door open, Root and Delaney capping the three men in front of them before the group split up; Root and Finch vanishing around the corner. Fusco lead the trio towards the server room, oblivious to the conversation happening behind him. 

"Do you remember when we were first brought-" Delaney grimaced as several Samaritan operatives emerged from the double doors in front of them, forcing John to grip her arm and pull her back the opposite direction. "Of course." 

"Looks like we drew the short straw, kids!" Fusco spat, fingers curling around his gun as he adjusted his spine and straightened his shoulders. Delaney tilted her head at the group who had emerged in front of her and John, lead by a blonde woman who matched the description that Root had given her of Martine. 

"Oh look, it's the humble one I've heard so much about. It's so nice to finally put a face to the name, _Delaney._ " She jeered. "FBI. Drop your weapons or we'll shoot." 

"I thought you were DEA!" Fusco exclaimed. Delaney spread her feet shoulder length apart and heaved a sigh at the Detectives ridiculous statement before removing her gun from her waistband and flicking the safety off. 

"What does it matter? We'll shoot either way." Martine spat, her eyes flickering between the pair in front of her with a hint of repulse in her expression. "Last time I saw you was in church. You two should've prayed harder." 

"You know, I was hoping not to have to use this today." Delaney replied casually, rotating her wrist to get a better look at her weapon in the dimly lit hallway. "Then I heard about what you did while I was being tortured, and now I'm going to take great pleasure in watching you die. I'll try to make it painless." 

"If we go to hell, _we're taking you with us."_

_In the server room below, Root held the mutilated body of her best friend, tear filled eyes gazing upward at the camera and the software long discarded._

**Option 336,742**

**Undesired Outcome**

**Secondary Objective: Prevent Financial Crisis - _Failed_**

**Primary Objective: Evacuate Assets - _Failed_**

**Admin - _Terminated_**

**Simulation Terminated**

***

_Revert to Real Time_

"We need a strategy." 

"Gotta agree with Harry on this one." Delaney pressed, her amber eyes flickering down the line to where Root was tucked into the corner. "Little help here Root? I'd really rather not die today!" 

With a fierce determination in her eyes, Samantha Groves lifted her chin to gaze at the security camera in the corner where she knew that her guardian angel was milling over the hundreds of thousands of options to get her acolytes to safety and out of their current predicament. 

_"A little help please."_

**Option selected: 506,738**

"Got it." Root replied quickly, removing her key card and handing it to Delaney. "When we open that door, you need to lead these two to the server room. Delaney will hack the system and stabilize the market, and you will provide security to her. Harold, we're going to turn right to secure our escape route. We'll head to the mechanical room and cut the tension cable to the elevators lock." 

Delaney grinned wildly as she cradled the briefcase against her chest, weapon still tucked into her waistband as Fusco and John prepared to fire when threat was palpable to her. "I finally get the chance to put my technological skills to use? I'll take it!"

"And how exactly will we do that, Miss Groves?" Finch pressed. 

"She'll tell us when we get there! Come on!"

Delaney lead the way to the server room with John and Fusco in tow, carrying the brief case in one hand and her weapon in the other. Upon arrival to the scanner Root had warned her of, she motioned to John to get in contact with Sameen who had been following the code holder on the subway. "Shaw, I'm going to need that code now." 

" _Oh, I'm working on it. How do you talk down a psycho in a bomb vest?"_

Delaney cast an incredulous look over her shoulder at John who looked nearly as dumbfounded as she was. "Please tell me this is a classic Shaw joke and she's not actually serious." She snapped under her breath. "Because I don't have time for that." 

" _Hello?"_

"I was waiting on the punchline!" Shaw muttered something she couldn't hear into the comms before John took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, if someone straps a bomb to their chest it normally means that they must believe their life doesn't matter. Just... convince him it does." 

They waited for what felt like an eternity before a gunshot rang out on the other end, nearly causing Delaney to jump out of her skin. "Sameen?" She urged. "Are you okay?"

" _You're on your own."_

Delaney cursed under her breath and stepped backward, motioning to the scanner with her index finger. "Looks like we're stuck doing this the old fashioned way. Husband.. if you will?" She asked, a devious smile spreading across her face as John cocked the slide on his gun before firing into the scanner, thus breaking it. "That was hot."

"Shut up and do your job Del." 

She ducked in front of John as they broke into the room, the two Detectives firing at every man that sat behind the row of computers in front of them. She haphazardly pushed hair out of her eyes and set to hacking the Trade, bent over at the waist and completely oblivious to everything going on behind her. 

" _Hey Amber? Can you go any faster?! I'm almost out!"_

"I can only go so fast, Lionel!" Delaney snapped, gasping as a bullet whizzed past her ear and impaled the wall in front of her. She caught sight through her peripheral vision of John dragging Lionel out the same door they had entered and locking it behind him, whipping around just as a rogue bullet pierced her through the arm. 

" _John."_

"I've got you, sweetheart. You have to keep going!"

It was the pain that caught her off guard as she feverishly worked to finish the hack of the Stock Exchange. Hot, searing pain that coursed through her entire arm and nearly caused her to scream out as she slammed her finger on the Enter key. She felt her brain seize as John lunged at the closest Samaritan operative, multiple gunshots ringing out as she slowly turned to meet the pained expression of her fallen husband. 

Had he not been here to protect her, those operatives would've surely shot her dead. It wasn't like she was _afraid to die,_ it was more that she was afraid that John would die _for her._

"You know, most of the time I'd just shoot you on the spot, but you're pretty. And you're clearly smarter then your husband here, who's just had four bullets put into his chest." Her eyes flickered down to John who was staring up at her through weary blue eyes, the ghost of a smile present on his lips as Delaney removed her weapon and immediately fired it into the head of the operative on the far right. The man in front of her was not even fazed. "Do you surrender?" 

Her chest heaved as she caught sight of what Johns plan actually was, her finger tightly curled around the trigger as she slowly sank to her knees. "No. But you will." He cocked his head as Delaney pulled Johns head into her lap, wincing as she used her free hand to clasp her arm to stop the profuse rush of scarlet from the bullet wound. 

"I must say, you two are awfully cheery for a dead married couple. It's almost.. _beautiful."_

"You're carrying a grenade. Samaritan standard issue. Which means... you _all_ are." John rasped.

Delaney slowly lifted her head to gaze at her enemy and managed a smile. A smile that told them that she was completely at peace with herself. No more running, no more hiding. They were now on Deaths door, and it was going to invite them inside. "I told you that you were going to surrender." 

And with the release of the grenade pin, the world lit up in a frenzy of orange flame; with Delaney Reese holding her husband tightly in her arms through their final experience with death. This time.. this time it had won. 

_Downstairs, Martine smiled with satisfaction as a flurry of bullets was unleashed on Samantha Groves, killing her instantly. Harold Finch was nowhere to be seen._

**Option 506,738 - _undesired outcome_**

**Secondary Objective: Prevent Financial Crisis - _Failed_**

**Primary Objective: Evacuate Assets - _Failed_**

**Primary Assets - _Terminated_**

**Analog Interface - _Terminated_**

**_Simulation Terminated_ **

***

_Revert to Real Time_

"We need a strategy." 

"Gotta agree with Harry on this one." Delaney pressed, her amber eyes flickering down the line to where Root was tucked into the corner. "Little help here Root? I'd really rather not die today!" 

With a fierce determination in her eyes, Samantha Groves lifted her chin to gaze at the security camera in the corner where she knew that her guardian angel was milling over the hundreds of thousands of options to get her acolytes to safety and out of their current predicament. 

_"A little help please."_

**Option selected: 833,333**

**"** Got it." Root quickly removed her key card and shoved it into her pocket, handing Harold the silver briefcase. "When we get out the door, everyone turn left. We're going to the server room to hack the system together. Then we move as a team to the mechanical room to secure our escape route."

They worked their way through the halls and to the server room, where Shaw had successfully given them the code to break inside. Delaney and Root held up their weapons and shrugged as the men behind the row of computers scattered granting them the accessibility they needed to hack the Exchange. 

John, Lionel and Delaney individually held three men behind Root and Finch as they finished their hack, thus saving the Stock Exchange. 

**_Prevent Financial Crisis - Complete_ **

"Oh, there's this deep, heartfelt feeling breaking through my chest." Delaney pondered, quirking an eyebrow as she pressed her hand over her heart. "I think it's called Pride. Any of you ever feel like this?" Fusco and Root quietly snickered under their breath before Lionel snatched the ax in front of him and began to chip away at the wall, revealing the tension cable hiding behind it. "C'mon, none of you have sentimentality. I'm so offended." 

"Hey Cocoa Puffs, could use your help here for a minute." 

Root reappeared from where she and Harold had gone moments before, eyes cast on the trio by the door. "Which cable will breaks the elevators mechanical lock?" John asked. 

"The coiled one, but cutting it would alert Samaritans operatives so wait until Harold starts-" Dread flickered across Roots face as her voice faded into silence, almost as if she knew it was a trap. _"_ Too late. They're coming!" 

Delaney and John took each others sides by the doors as they waited for the confirmation from Harold that the power to the elevator had been turned back on. She pressed two fingers over her pulse in her neck, chest constricting as her erratic heartbeat danced along her fingertips. 

John sensed her discomfort and pulled her close to him, barely brushing his lips over the crown of her head before Root rushed around the corner. " _I'm here._ " He said quietly, bringing his weapon back up to his eyes as they peered out the door. "Now Lionel!" Fusco grunted as he broke through the wall and severed the connection to the elevator lock. "Do we have power?" 

" _Indeed we do, Mr. Reese. Power's been diverted to the elevator. Off we go!"_

The four of them raced down the hall to their exit, only to be completely blocked off by Samaritan operatives. John sank to a low crouch while Delaney pressed her hand against his shoulder, leaning over his muscular form as she fired shot after shot into each opposing agent. John couldn't help but find himself commending her insanely accurate aim. 

_"_ Looks like I'm still a better shot then you John!" 

**_Evacuate Assets_ **

**_Chance of Failure: 97.93%_ **

John cursed under his breath as the unmistakable sound of an empty magazine reverberated through the air. "Del, I'm out! Your turn!" He exclaimed, eyes darting back and forth between the remaining operatives at the door, one of which was Martine. Delaney stepped out into Johns place and allowed her shoulder to casually brush against Roots.

She'd never felt more at peace with the woman who she'd hated once upon a time then in that moment where they were protecting their boys and saving the world. Or at least trying to do so. 

Her heart stopped when she heard John cry out, using his own body to shield Harold from a bullet that would've hit him if he hadn't. Delaney felt her brain power into overdrive as she shoved Lionel into her spot and slipped her weapon back into her waistband as she positioned John against the nearest wall. "That, Mr. Reese, was unbelievably stupid." Her blood pounded in her ears as Harold remained crouched beside her, his hand curled around her shoulder as she rolled up her sleeves and applied steady pressure to his wound. "You're in so much trouble." 

"I'm always in trouble with you." He rasped. "Just makes for more fun later."

" _Now is not the time for innuendo!"_

John managed a weak smile as Delaney straddled his hips, repeating strict directions to Harold on how to relieve the bleeding from his gunshot wound. He methodically removed the gauze from inside her jacket since she'd forgotten her satchel and handed it to her just as Shaw decided to make her appearance after crawling through fifty yards of air duct.

"Dude, you guys look like crap. I crawled through fifty yards of air duct to get here and it's pretty obvious we're not getting out that way. But don't worry.." Delaneys eyes widened when Shaw pulled out explosives from inside her coat and waved it in the air to show the rest of the group. "I got a gift from our friend in the bomb vest. I'll take it from here." 

Harold helped Delaney pull John to his feet, his weight equally distributed between the two of them as Root and Shaw secured their way into the elevator. Finch slowly eased John into her arms as she sank to the floor, arms tightly wrapped around his torso as his head lolled against her shoulder. 

Her eyes never left Shaw. 

"We need to go. We may not get a second chance." 

"Second chances are overrated, Harold." Shaw chided.

He pressed the elevator button only to find that the control board wasn't responding to his command. "What the-" Attempting a second time, Harold grumbled under his breath as once again, nothing happened. "The controls aren't responding!" 

Shaws ominous eyes settled on the desk across the room, where an large red button was blinking from behind it. "Behind the desk, there's an override button. Someone's gotta get to the desk and hold them off." At her sudden proclamation of what seemed to be her own sacrifice, Root rushed forward and tightly gripped the smaller womans upper arm with all the strength she could muster. 

" _Sameen.. if you even think I'm going to let you-''_

Delaney focused on the sound of her heart beat as she hid her face in Johns hair, inhaling the tangible smell of blood and faint cologne - the smell that made him _John._ Had she not moved to glance at the situation, she would've totally miss Shaw and Roots fatal kiss before Sameen shoved her back into the arms of Lionel and immediately moved to throw the elevator doors shut. 

The only sounds in that moment of sacrifice was the unmistakable scream coming from Root and the overwhelming smell of gun powder as she hid her face in Johns hair, shaking hands tightly linked together. She tried to block out the sight of Martine standing over Sameen with her gun aimed for the center of her head. 

_Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable... Every step toward the goal of justice requires **sacrifice** , suffering, and struggle; _

John stirred in her arms as the doors clicked shut and the elevator slowly began to descend to the first floor. 

_The tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals._

Have you ever heard a silence so deafening it made your ears ring? When you're sitting there, desperate to comprehend everything that has happened to you, and there's nothing but _silence?_ It's so quiet that you can hear the fluttering of a fly's wings, the gentle thrumming of a heartbeat, the eradicated rhythm of panicked breathing. 

Much to her shock, she was deeply saddened by the loss of Sameen but she felt no.. grief. Nothing compared to Samantha Groves who was completely absorbed in herself as she sobbed in Harolds arms, gripping the fabric of his suit jacket as if his life depended on it. 

"We need to get to the safehouse. Megan Tillman left me surgical supplies there for emergencies. I have-" Her voice broke off as Harold and Fusco turned to acknowledge her. "I have to get this bullet out of John." 

***

Just as Fusco and Finch had begun to prepare a makeshift operating room, Root took the opportunity to release all of her anger on the only person paying any attention to her hysteria. The younger woman lunged outward at Delaney and knocked her to the floor, throwing her fists into her jaw as quickly and roughly as she could before Delaney kicked outward and threw her into the staircase. 

"Why-Why are you not _grieving?!_ " She shrieked, wiping the blood trickling down her lip off with the back of her sleeve as they stood parallel to one another. "One of our own was _taken!_ You should-You should be beside yourself right now! If not sobbing, at least acknowledging the fact that Shaw was-" 

" _I'm not the one who was in love with Sameen."_

Delaney immediately stopped her impending attack by slamming her fist into Roots throat, sending her on her back with the air dissipated from her lungs. Just as she moved to lecture the younger woman, Harold spoke up from the hospital bed on the other side of the room. 

"Delaney, we're ready for you over here." 

Delaney wiggled her fingers and rotated her neck, slowly running her hand through her hair as Root continued to angrily glower at her. Her fingers lightly grazed over the swollen skin on her jaw where there was sure to be a blossoming purple bruise tomorrow. "Do you want to know why I'm not grieving? It's because I know loss is inevitable, especially in a life like ours. People leave and people die. I don't think Shaw is dead, Root. However, right now my priority is to dig my hands into my husbands chest cavity and remove the bullet he took for Harold. So if you want to know why I'm not absorbed in my grief like I had been with McKenna, it's because I _can't_ be." 

Her lips quivered as Root sharply turned on her heel and ran into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Delaney cast a weary glance at Harold as a sob broke past her lips, the billionaire taking the window of opportunity to envelop her in a tight hug. 

"Do you need me here right now?" 

Delaney wiped her eyes and lightly shook her head. "No. I have to get this bullet out of John, and then I'll be taking at least six hours worth of a decent sleep. I just.." Her voice broke off as her gaze flickered back towards the bedroom door. "She hasn't lost anyone, has she?" 

"You know what it's like to lose the one person you love most, Mrs. Reese. While John has remained alive despite the circumstances, Miss Groves has no way of knowing if Sameen is alive." 

"Do you think she's alive?" She murmured softly, picking up the ten blade from the tray beside her and lifting her eyes to meet Harolds form. Even with the countless sleepless nights he'd grown well accustomed to since building the Machine, even Delaney could see the weariness lingering deep in his expression. 

"I think we have a war to stop. The ones we lose.. we continue in their memory. We pray for their safety, that they'll return home. We can't focus on the possibility of Sameens death, we have to focus on the moment she comes _back_." 


	52. The Aftermath (To Find Sameen)

The first thing John felt when his eyes finally opened was the overwhelming sense of exhaustion that only further prompted him to return to his slumber. He willed his eyes to open and took in the sunlight glaring through the windows of the safe-house, arching his back as clean air broke through to his lungs. 

" _Delaney-_ " 

Delaney had been in the middle of getting dressed from her shower when she finally heard John speak, rushing out of the bathroom in unbuttoned jeans and a camisole to properly examine her husband. "I was beginning to think that you were never going to wake up. It's been two days since you got shot." She murmured, bending over to press a kiss to one of the raised scars on Johns chest. "How do you feel?" 

"Hungry. Tired." He murmured, opening his arms as she bent down to toggle the lever on the side of the hospital bed that would angle the top of it. "Touch starved. Do you mind?" Delaney immediately crawled into his arms and tucked her chin underneath his head, a shaky breath breaking past her lips as John traced patterns on her skin. "Where are Finch and Root?" 

"Well, like I said, it's been two days since you got shot. Harold went back to the Subway. As for Sam.." She tightly screwed her eyes shut and found her grip on John tightening. "She's fairly mad at me for telling her that I wasn't grieving Sameen. Sure, I'm upset that Shaw is gone but I have yet to believe that anything can kill that woman." 

John pulled her legs over his lap so they were dangling off the side of the bed, his eyes narrowing as they settled on the blossomed bruise occupying the greater majority of her jaw. "You still bruise like a freaking peach." His gaze shifted to her eyes, where considerably large bags had started to grow. _Those weren't there two days ago._ "You aren't sleeping, are you? Tell me I'm wrong." 

"Haven't slept in... twenty four hours? Spent too much time taking care of you the first night. Besides, there's nothing behind these eyelids but never ending nightmares. I'll pass." She said quietly. A comfortable silence settled between them before she rolled over and straddled his waist. "Can I ask you something? I've been thinking about this for quite a while but never really-" 

His hands slid up her legs and lightly gripped her upper thighs. "You can ask me anything sweetheart. I'll never tell you that you can't." Delaney twisted a lock of hair behind her ear and lowered her gaze to sweep over the face of the man she had married. His concerned blues stared back into her own as he patiently awaited an explanation, his fingers dancing along her thighs and tracing circles as he went. 

"Do you ever miss what you had with Jessica? Before I came back into the picture?" 

The smile that appeared on his face was enough to make her heart stop. "Do I miss Jessica? Yes." John replied. "Jessica was hilarious. She was sweet and she read me rather well. Do I miss what I _had_ with Jessica? No. I don't. If I had never reenlisted after The Towers fell, I would've never gotten to where I am now. I never would've met Harold or started working the numbers, and I _definitely_ would've never gotten married to you. Like I've told you before, there was a distinct difference in my relationship with you and Jessica." Her breathing hitched as John cupped the side of her face. "In any lifetime, in any circumstance, I would choose you."

"That's the most poetic thing I think I've ever heard you say." Delaney confessed, grinning warmly as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "I just.. I've always wondered what your life was like in that time we were apart from each other. I'd say it was probably boring-" 

"I told her about you." 

Now _that_ caught her attention. "You did? What... What did you say to her?" John cleared his throat and rested his head back against the angled part of the hospital bed while Delaney adjusted his IV drip. "I hope it was all good things." 

_Flashback _

_"John? Who's the woman in the gear?" Jessica called out, rifling through his jacket and pulling out one of the few mementos he'd managed to hide from Kara. John stepped out of the bathroom and narrowed his eyes in on the photo - one he had taken with Delaney in boot camp. She could not stop grinning up at him - with his floppy hair and at the time lack of muscle tone; but even Jessica could see that the brunette deeply cared for him._ " _She's pretty. Got a good eye too.. She looks like she adores you."_

_"One of the best medics I've ever met in my life. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for Delaney Chrysler." John replied, almost with a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "Boot camp was the equivalent to hell but she somehow always managed to make it better. Her and the-" He jabbed a thumb at the corner of the photo where Jessica had just noticed a petite blonde woman watching them with longing in her eyes, hair strewn across her face and her arms crossed over her chest. "Blonde one. They were a packaged pair. You never got one of them without the other."_

_"It seems like she's good for you."_

_John grinned widely as he crawled over the bed on all fours to position himself above his girlfriend. "When I didn't know hope, Delaney taught me that hope was alive. When I saw her covered in blood and very much terrified of what was coming, I found out what true determination looked like. She defied all odds and took two bullets out of my chest and it wasn't because she was going to miss my looks if I was going to die." He joked. "She's one of my best friends and one of the few people who has made me into a better man."_

"So, you told Jessica I was your best friend even when you were dating her?" Delaney questioned, carefully watching John as he slowly but surely began cooking breakfast for both of them. Her eyes carefully watched his arm where she had removed the IV before shifting to his bare chest where gauze was secured over his incision. "And it didn't faze her one bit? Did that woman even know the definition of jealousy?" 

"It was rare for Jessie to get jealous. I wasn't surprised that she was never fazed over the news of you. I think you two would've loved each other if your relationship had ever gotten to evolve past mere acquaintances." John stated, slipping the over-easy eggs he'd made onto two separate plates before moving to cook the bacon. "Change of subject, how long do you think I need to recover from this gunshot?"

"You've always been a fast healer, John. Your incision is clean and you're eating well, so I'd say you were fine to return to work." Delaney replied, stepping around him to pour two cups of black coffee. She slipped the coffee cups onto the dining room table and ambled back into the dining room as John finished the bacon. "I'm more then willing to go with you, but don't expect me to not be the overprotective wife for a couple of days. After that gunshot.." She shuddered as John followed her to their table and pulled out her chair. "I almost thought I'd lost you, sweetheart." 

"We've been telling each other for years that we're not dying without the other present. And believe me," Delaney gasped as John dipped her downward in his arms before peppering her face with kisses. " _I intend on keeping it."_

***

They returned to the Subway less then half an hour later, ducking through the back alleys of China Town until they were safely secured inside the staircase of their newest abode. Delaney grinned widely at the sound of Bear, who had taken the liberty to spring up from his bed and into the stairwell to greet his owners. "Hi sunshine, I missed you too!" She shrieked, grinning as Bear led them back into the subway only to be greeted by Harold, who looked more then thrilled to see his oldest colleagues. "Hiya Harry. Did you miss us?" 

Finch took the opportunity to wrap Delaney in a warm embrace as he nodded. '' _More then you know._ " He led them down the large room to the desk where his laptop was set up and tracking a truck that was making its way up north of the City. "I thought you and Mr. Reese would like to help with the lead I've managed to find on Sameen." 

Before she could open her mouth to reply, Root emerged from the subway car with a look of disinterest on her face. "Harry, as much as I admire you, I'd rather take the husband then the wife. I don't need someone who doesn't care about Sameen not giving everything she can into finding her. John's much easier to work with.''

Delaney rose her eyebrows as John struggled to hold back his laughter, the brunette turning to meet the other womans hard stare. "Are you _done_ yet?" She said incredulously. "I'm more then aware of what I did to you, I'll have you know. It's not the first time I've said the wrong thing, and I'm choosing to overlook what was a ridiculously stupid argument to focus on the matter at hand. But just because I'm not hellbent on finding Sameen doesn't mean I don't careabout her. You need to stop treating me like a child, Root. Start treating me like your equal because from this moment on-" Root shrunk back as Delaney closed the gap between them, her eyes dangerously dark as they pierced her own. " _That's what I am._ " 

Root pondered her words as her eyes flickered between the Reeses and finally landed on Harold. "Fine, but you better give me your best work out there. This isn't just any woman we're looking for and we're already past the deadline for rescue. Harry dear," She asked. "What's our final destination?" 

"I've traced the truck to these new coordinates to what looks like a small town upstate."

***

After determining where to start on locating Sameen in the small town of Maple, Root lead their way into the Founders Day event. Delaney stuck close to John and played with the pendant around her neck, soaking in the crisp fall air and sunshine pouring through the array of clouds in the sky. 

_Peace._

_"_ There are only two roads in and out of Maple. Local PD should have security footage of the tollbooths." Root said. 

"Why would Samaritan move Shaw to Pleasantville?" John remarked. 

''Don't judge a town by its cider, John." Delaney interjected, tipping her head back and fastening her fedora on top of her hair. " _Monsters love small towns."_ She turned to the nearest booth and murmured lowly to the cashier, who handed her a cup of hot cider as she simultaneously handed him several bills. "While you two peruse your endless amount of options, I will work my magic with the police and get that security footage. Feel free to follow me if you like." 

The police department was smaller then she had anticipated, but that didn't stop the desk sergeant from eyeing her like she was the newest piece of meat to walk into his station. Delaney narrowed her eyes as he stood to his feet and puffed out his chest, tongue darting out to lick at cracked lips. "Now, what can I do for you pretty ladies?" He mused, gaze shifting between her and Root. 

The most ironic part of their entire conversation was that she could _feel_ the jealousy radiating off John as she subtly winked beneath the rim of her scarlet fedora. "G'morning. We need to see the security footage from your tollbooths." The man at the desk jabbed his thumb against the intercom button and cleared his throat. 

"Chief, NYPD here to see you."

The Chief of the Police Department, a man who was clearly in his late forties with a receding hairline and broad build, stood from his desk chair and walked out into the main room. "Now what is the NYPD doing here in Maple?" He asked. 

"We're investigating a homicide." John replied. 

"There's nothing like that up here in Maple. Never has been." 

All eyes fell on Root as she sighed and curved around both of her friends who merely remained silent as she took the seat of power. "Triple homicide in Brooklyn. Perp fled this way in a refrigerated truck. My friend and I just need to check your surveillance tapes to see if they passed through here." The Police Chief rose an eyebrow and smirked smugly before leading Root into the surveillance room and leaving John with another cop. "Del, it's all yours." 

Her fingers sped across the keys as Delaney examined each piece of security footage from inside the tollbooth, stepping back with a slightly confused expression as one particular piece was unplayable. "One piece of footage was corrupted." She remarked, turning back to face Chief Wicker and Root. "My friend here is going to need to take a look at the hard backups. Just so we know.. can get everything right." 

"The CDs locked up in the storage room. If you want them," He held his keys out in front of Root who moved to snatch them just as he pulled his arm back. "You two are going to have to let me in on the case over drinks." Root smiled seductively and took the keys from Chief Wicker.

"I think I can do that," She replied alluringly. "If I can find the time." 

Chief Wicker moved his gaze to Delaney. "What about you then, gorgeous? No normal woman wears a 1920's fedora and smiles at men like they're her playthings." Her breathing hitched as Chief Wicker moved his hand down to cup her backside, only to find his wrist painfully twisted in towards his chest. 

" _I'm married, you idiot."_

John rushed back into the room with his new temporary supply of weapons to find Delaney and Root both hunched over the computer and the Police Chief unconscious on the floor beside his desk. "I'm pretty sure I've told you both this a thousand times, but you need to be more careful." Delaney lightly shook her head and motioned to Root who turned the computer towards John. "You found the truck?" 

"The truck came into Maple and never left. Shaw is still here in town." Root whispered. "Hold on Shaw... we're close." 

***

They found themselves in a temporary hotel room for the night with the Police Chief, who was gagged and bound inside the body bag Root had brought with her. "I think, to do this right, we pull out the bad cop/good cop routine." Delaney murmured to John as he casually leaned into her shoulder. ''I mean I can play a bad cop, but you probably don't want me to do that." 

"And why not?" He stated.

"Because I might do things that aren't pretty to eyes like yours. I might.. I might just kill him. I don't think you want your angel to have blood on her hands in front of you. You will _never_ look at me the same, John." 

She wasn't wrong. They had lost far too many people in the time they'd been working under the Machine. Sameen Shaw was just another one to add to their list of dearly departed, and it was all _its_ fault. All she had done was sacrifice herself for the people she cared about, and in return it had earned her a bullet to the head. Delaney had poured so much of herself into John and his recovery that it hadn't occurred to her just how deeply Root was feeling the loss of the woman she claimed to be in love with.

_Let the good die young and brave, eh?_

_"Delaney?_ " Harold quipped into their comms. " _Pull yourself out of that trance, sunshine. I have news._ " Delaney roughly jarred her head and leaned back against the wall, her hands buried deep into her pea coat pockets. " _I've found the truck. It has an eagle shaped ornament on the front. I spoke to a rest stop waitress who had seen it. It's been impounded._ " 

"Well," Delaney replied, setting her fedora back on the top of her head. "We all have to start somewhere, kids. Let's get moving." 

The next part of their excursion lead them back into the car, with Root in the drivers seat and John in the passengers. Delaney laid outstretched across the back, her head casually resting against the window and her fingers threaded through the ends of Johns salt and pepper hair. "Keep your eyes on the road, Groom. I need you to be focused on navigating. We can't afford to lose anymore time." 

John pondered her words for a moment and found himself admiring her fierce determination. It so closely mirrored his own when he had been hellbent on finding Delaney after she'd been kidnapped by Vigilance and Decima, Part of him always wondered if she had ever given herself the opportunity to _heal_ from the endeavor. The two of them had always had a particularly bad habit of bottling up their emotions until they broke, and everything came flooding out like the roaring water from a broken dam.

"You really believe she's alive, don't you?" 

Delaney scooted closer to John to allow him access to her hand, both of them focused on the sudden tightening of Roots fingers around the steering wheel. "Have you ever heard of Schrodinger's cat?" She asked, gaze flickering between the two of them in the mirror as their silence confirmed her question. "There's a cat trapped in a box with something lethal. There's a fifty percent chance that the cat has already been killed, but until you open the box there's no way to know one way or the other. Quantum physics says that before you open the box, the cat isn't dead or alive. It's both." 

"And after you open the box?" 

"Reality collapses back in on itself. Cat's either alive or it's dead." Root replied. Delaney yawned and outstretched her aching limbs, securing her weapon in her waistband as John pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. 

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we're going to see reality soon. But you don't bet against Shaw," Delaney leaned forward so her face was directly beside Johns, arm slung over the passenger seat. "Now do you?"

"No. _Nothing_ kills that cat." 

They arrived at the Impound Lot not long after. Delaney stepped out of the car first and buttoned her pea coat, discarding her hat in the back seat and gazing at their surroundings. The Lot was fairly large, occupied by worn out cars and mounds of discarded debris that no one had come to collect. The air smelled acrid and akin to garbage, causing her to gag when she attempted to inhale deeply. 

"We're here Finch." John murmured, knocking against the chain link with his knuckles. "Thanks for letting us in." The man in the navy blue suit feigned a smile, unlocking the padlock on the gate before allowing them access to the inside of the lot. 

"Hey man, I don't care. Go to town." 

Delaney nudged the inside of Johns ribs and motioned to the man who had collapsed in his chair in front of the TV, a bottle of Tequila loosely hanging in his greasy fingers. "It's.." Delaney glanced down at her cellphone and pursed her lips. "Three PM, and that guy reeks of a distillery. Go any closer and I may vomit my breakfast on the floor." 

"Looks like Founders Day is the new Cinco De Mayo." Root remarked. 

Delaney tapped the inside of her earpiece as Root moved deeper into the Lot, leaving John to watch over the drunken man sat in front of an old TV. "What do we have on this guy, Harry?" She murmured under her breath. "It reeks of sorrow and man musk and I'd rather not spend that much time staring at him." 

" _His name is Mason Bower. Deadbeat trust funder. His fund crashed four months ago.. This is the first job he's had since."_

The TV was turned to the local news, playing a story about a local homeless man who had somehow, by some stroke of luck, had won the Lottery and obtained ten million dollars. 

John whistled in disbelief as he tore his eyes away from the TV. "If I was Mason, I'd be drinking too!" He exclaimed. "Homeless man just hit the jackpot! Luck is in the air!" 

Delaney and Root began jogging towards the section of semi-trucks on the other side of the Lot, skidding to a stop when Root recognized the eagle ornament on the front bumper. "That's our truck." She called out, removing her gun and stopping at the back door of the truck where Delaney was prepared to throw open the door. "Let me see what's inside!" 

_This was too easy._

She had known since the start that finding Sameen even with the injuries she'd sustained was going to be nearly impossible. There was no possible outcome where this turned out well. She was a general surgeon, not a neuro surgeon. Even if they had managed to find her, there was no guarantee Sameen Shaw would be the same woman they'd last seen. 

" _Did you find her?"_

Delaney lightly shook her head, opting to remain on the ground as John and Root jumped into the back of the truck. "No, Harry. She's not in the truck." Her eyes narrowed in on a gurney and side table, containing a basin of blood soaked lap pads and tray of medical equipment she'd learned to familiarize herself with. "Whatever they did, it took a-lot of out of her. That's a bone saw and medical drill... Looks like she also lost a good portion of her blood volume too." Her eyes darkened as Root whipped around on her heel, eyes bright with anger as she jumped out of the back of the truck and stood eye to eye with the opposing woman. 

"You-You don't know _anything_ about what happened in that truck. She-" Despite her rage, Delaney could still clearly see the underlying guilt and sorrow that lay deep in Samantha Groves eyes. "She could still be alive." 

"Can you please stop acting like I'm the bad guy here?" She growled. "I'm a Doctor, I _know_ what this looks like. And that-" She pointed back to the massacre in the back of the truck. "Either looks like a futile attempt to save Shaw or they tortured her. One of the two."

"I just..." Root ducked her head to her chest as John lead their way back to the car. "I can't-I _can't_ lose her. Not her." Delaney laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder and managed a faint smile. 

"I've been through this enough times with John. I _know_ how you feel." She whispered. "But we can't find Sameen if we're too focused on emotions. Just.. tune them out and focus on the matter at hand." 

"How do you _do that?_ Just shut off your want to hurt the people who hurt you? I could never.. I don't think I have the strength in me to not take revenge. Especially if I were you, after everything Decima did to me." 

"Oh Root," Delaney mused. "It's sweet of you to think that, but my bones are made or iron and my blood is like a river of fire. I'm _made_ from rage. You just haven't seen it put into action yet." 

***

Their search became desperate. Sameen had not been admitted to the local hospital, and no one in the hospital servers had been admitted with injuries akin to hers. Their last resort to finding any sort of answers had lead them to the town neuro-surgeon, who had filled them in on why everything in Maple was so obscure. A corporation had bought out the towns textile company, thus saving it from what would have been an inevitable collapse on itself. 

Then their informant had disclosed exactly what she had needed to hear. 

" _The factory has been repurposed. They make a tech thing now... transponders, I believe."_

Delaney straightened her spine and extended her hand to the surgeon. "We need to make ourselves known to Miss Thompson." She said. "Doctor, from one to another, thank you for your help." 

***

"Did your little voice finally tell you something about Sameen?" 

Roots expression immediately darkened. "No, but I can guarantee you that Miss Thompson will. " Both of them turned to Delaney, who was walking predatory circles around Emma Thompson who was confined to her chair with rope and duct tape. The older woman trembled under her touch as she picked up the sharpest instrument nearest to her and moved in back and forth in her hands. 

"So who gets to play bad cop?" She asked as Root leaned against the wall. "Cause our friend here is already terrified of me and I'm more then capable to get what we need out of her using whatever means necessary." 

John wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her close enough to him that she could feel his rhythmic heartbeat beneath her fingertips resting on his chest. "I'm not letting you kill anybody. Plus, this is Roots mission. Not ours. Let her take the bad cop routine if things don't go my way." 

She nodded weakly and moved to the other side of the room. 

"I don't know anything!" She pleaded. "I do what I'm told and I follow the instructions. That's it."

"What instructions?" John asked. 

"Emails! Telling me where to go, what to say, places to leave things and find other things. I-I do what I'm told and I get to live a nice life." She remarked. "If I don't, they'll kill me. My real name is Mary Ann Houlst. Six months ago I was working at a CVS in Pittsburgh and I had a heart attack. I woke up with a new pace maker in the Maple Hospital. A blonde woman told me I'd been given a new job.. _a second chance-"_

"I hate to break it to you," Delaney interjected. "But second chances aren't freely given anymore. Believe me, I'd know." 

John snapped his fingers in front of Emmas face, drawing her terrified eyes away from Delaney in the shadows and back to focus on him. "I don't know anything." His lips curled upward in a small smirk as John leaned forward on his knees. _The interrogator at work._

"You're a good liar." He said admirably. "But now I'm losing my patience, and believe me.. You don't want me to turn you over to either of my colleagues. They're not always the nicest people." 

_"WAIT!_ " Harold exclaimed, causing all three of them to wince at the sharpness in his voice. " _She's telling the truth! Mary Ann Houlst officially died six months ago in Pittsburgh. It's her."_

"It doesn't matter. She's an agent now." John snapped. 

From his spot inside of the Subway, Harold huffed and typed in code to access a private line and connect John to it. " _I've put you on a private line. John, you can not allow Samantha to take over the interrogation. It will lead to the torture and murder of a woman who may very well be innocent!"_

Delaney felt her chest constrict at the fury that was radiating off of John. It was rare for him to show his emotions in public, but when he did, it never went well. There were always new reasons to be guilty and countless apologies spoken. "Even if she was just obeying orders, she's responsible! Our friend is _gone."_

 _"I feel Sameens loss as acutely as you but we can't become monsters- Do you not remember what happened to your wife?"_ His cerulean eyes flickered up to meet her own, pulling himself into a flashback where he'd had to be sedated the day Delaney had disappeared in order to not run into chaos and get himself killed in the process. He'd been incredibly angry when he'd fallen asleep, but more somber then Harold had ever seen him when he finally woke up. 

His choices had almost lost Delaney her husband. 

"If I can't get it out of her... She can." 

" _Let me try! Please?"_ John heaved a sigh and moved to where Delaney and Root stood, turning on the speaker of his cellphone and setting it on the chair. " _Miss Thompson, the transponders you make at the factory. What do they do?"_

"I don't know, I _swear-_ " 

_"Why did your supervisors turn the town on its head? What is the goal?"_

She pondered her next response before speaking. "I think it's to make people happy." Emma confessed. "I've given so many people new jobs at the Factory. Jobs they're suited to. Everyone is so.. _happy."_

"What about Doctor Haskel and the dead Mayor?" John persisted. "I doubt they're happy." 

Emma tightened her jaw at the lack of empathy coming from her captors before she decided to speak. "A blonde woman told me that a few may be displaced for the majority to thrive." Her words sounded so prophetic that it made Delaneys stomach curl into knots. "Everyone rewarded according to their abilities." 

"But the things we _saw_ today-" 

"There... There have been some recent changes. Mason shooting that _poor_ man. Things have fallen out of balance like we're being punished!" Emma exclaimed. 

" _It isn't punishment. It's studying us."_ Harold murmured. '' _Our enemy hasn't had the time to learn the intricacies of human nature so it's turned Maple into its own little ant farm. It took a broken town and rearranged the populous. First it made things perfect and then it decided to see what happens if you shake the ant farm."_

"I promise I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt!" Emma pleaded, hot tears rolling down her face as Root took another step forward, jaw clenched and eyes lit up with wild fire. 

"That's not good enough!" She snarled in response. "She's our only lead!" 

" _But she doesn't know anything!"_

Delaney felt like she was the neutrality in the middle of an internal war. Root had allowed her emotions to obscure her better judgement, driven with anger instead of rationality while Finch desperately attempted to keep her from getting the closure she was seeking. "I haven't gotten to ask her yet." 

" _John, Delaney.. You can not let Samantha touch that woman! We are not beasts!"_ Finch cried.

"Beastliness is just the thing now and then." Delaney murmured lowly as Root moved the medical saw closer to the older womans face as a petrified scream broke past her lips. 

"Alright, _alright!"_ She cried, breathing heavily as Root smiled with satisfaction and turned off the saw. "I saw her. I _saw_ the brunette woman. They were taking her into the factory! Please- I can help you get inside! I'm sorry that I lied, I had too or they'd kill me." 

"Thank you for telling the truth." Root commended. "Honesty is always the best policy." Emmas gaze flickered back and forth as if she were expecting more of a punishment, only to scream out in fright as the saw began to chip away at the skin of her hand. 

Delaney winced where she stood in the shadows, everything taking place in reality fading out like the introduction to a flashback in a movie. She'd heard - she'd _heard_ her own mouth break into screams so eerily similar to hers. When Vigilance had been torturing her for information of her husband and her best friend, she'd screamed so loud and so painfully that she had lost her voice. 

_That voice that was never afraid to speak._

"Final question, if you lie.. This goes in your skull. When you saw our friend, was she _alive?"_

A pregnant paused ensued as Emma quickly nodded in response. "Yes! Yes, she was alive!"

_Time to find out if the cat had been killed._


	53. False Hope

After Miss Thompson had successfully gotten them into the building, she took point in leading the three of them into the security suite. John and Delaney split down the aisles and broke into the boxes that lined the majority of the room, tossing the contents to Root as she left the security suite after successfully turning off the alarms and cameras. 

"Microdots. Invisible GPS trackers, probably. They are transponders." She huffed and threw the contents back into the box. "Stick these onto your tech equipment, your kids backpack, your keys.. It'll keep track of it all. Samaritan will have kept constant data on everything.. but it wouldn't have brought Shaw here to put a tracker on her." 

Delaney reached into her leather jacket she had switched out earlier and pulled out her ski mask as John and Root did the same. "When you saw our friend," She questioned. "Where did they take her?" 

Emma motioned to a set of double doors on the opposite side of the room. "Over there, but I don't have access because that area is classified. You're on your own." Her stomach flipped as the trio turned in to face one another before Root and Delaney reloaded the clips on their automatic weapons. 

"When the shooting starts, you'll have to duck." John instructed. 

Root attached a makeshift explosive to the door and detonated it, sending debris flying everywhere as smoke began to pour out of the classified area of the building. " _Today is not the day to screw with us, so you get one chance to run."_ She commanded, shrugging at the woman on her right as they both jumped to their feet. "Times up." 

Gunshots rang in her ears as men dropped like flies, bodies riddled with bullet holes as they trekked through the labs and came upon three separate glass containers that immediately caught the attention of Delaney. "Oh, now _this_ is interesting." She said. "This is the factories real project. They're neural implants to prevent seizures in people with epilepsy. I've seen them before.. but on a much different scale." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Or brain damage." 

"But look there-" Root interjected, her shoulder brushing against Delaneys as she pointed to the third implant. "Isn't that a transponder??"

"The implants can relay information to Samaritan." Delaney replied sharply. Worry flashed across her eyes as she lifted her head high enough to meets Johns penetrating gaze several feet away. Always watching, never fading, never tearing away from her. "Watching the people in Maple isn't enough. It wants to study us on an electric chemical level." She turned her attention to Root who stood beside her and seemed to be growing more tense the longer they were away from finding the closure they needed on Sameen. "I think they're going to stick one of these in Shaw." 

_"We really are just pets to it."_

"Pets don't carry guns," John said, gently nudging the two women forward in front of him. "C'mon." 

Further down the hall was a makeshift hospital room, complete with the available medical supplies. John fired an individual shot into the doctor, sending him to a heap on the floor as Root rushed forward to examine the woman handcuffed to the bed. "Wait, Root-" Delaney pressed, her throat closing as she caught the back of the head of the confined woman in the bed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to familiarize themselves with those they love - and the hair did not match Sameen Shaw. 

" _John, Sam, Delaney.. The blood in the truck. It's not Shaws."_

A thousand different things happened at once. Root lit up like gasoline to a blaze, collapsing beside the doctor and shoving her weapon in his face. Delaney felt all of the breath dissipate in her lungs as reality came crashing in on itself; they had been following an empty lead this _entire_ time. John seemed to be the only one holding his composure and even in that moment of weakness for all three of them, the couple could still make out the glimmer of tears in each others eyes. 

_We don't have the luxury to grieve._

"Finch, we followed the wrong clues." Delaney whispered. "Why was Delia at the Stock Exchange?" 

" _She was a secretary there."_ Finch replied in disbelief. " _She must've been shot in the fire fight. They got rid of the witnesses but they must've brought Delia here to test the neural implant."_

John pursed his lips and turned around only to find Emma was now standing alone. "Your friend and the woman I assume is your wife left." She said quietly, gasping as gunfire echoed through the air. "I need to stay behind. I'm quitting my job." 

"Well, good luck. And when they track you down, remember this. By taking orders without question you have destroyd this town." John stated sharply. "You deserve what's coming to you." He quickly moved to uncuff Delia and picked her up bridal style after slipping his mask back on, working his way through the massacre and back into the main room.

"Del?!" He called out. "Delaney!" He froze as one last man emerged from the exit, immediately turning around to take a shot to the back if the need arose. When no bullet penetrated his skin, Johns head snapped up to find Delaney staring back at him and Root reloading her weapon at her side. "It's lucky that you're still a good shot." 

"C'mon kids," She replied. "Let's go home." 

***

Inside the Subway, Delaney casually laid outstretched on the floor with Bears head resting on her stomach, her eyes vacantly fixated on the ceiling. An untouched bag of Chinese food from her favorite shop in Chinatown sat at her side. Over by the main desk she could hear John murmuring in low tones to Finch who had yet to return to the Subway for the night. 

"What're you thinking about?" He questioned, gazing at her from above. "Because that's the _I'm-super-deep-in-my-thoughts-and-questioning-my-existence_ face." Delaney allowed her eyes to shift over to her husband as she patted the open space beside her where she laid in front of the train car. "Tell me what's wrong or I'm going to eat your food."

"Is that a threat?" Delaney mused, wiggling her eyes in amusement as she maneuvered her body to rest her head in Johns lap. "I'm just.. do you ever get tired of losing people John?"

She let out a soft sigh when John began lightly threading his fingers through her short hair. "All the time." He murmured. "I used to think it got easier, but nowadays the probability of losing someone else just terrifies me out of my wits."

"Why? Mr. Steel Exterior with the killer accuracy and cold facade is afraid of losing people?" His eyes darkened as Johns fingers traveled over the contours of her face before they stopped at her jaw, his thumb resting against her lips. 

"Because there's a fifty percent chance that it's _you_ I'm going to be losing."

***

_The conversation in this chapter is from 4x17 - but we're skipping straight to 4x20_

Delaney glanced up from her paperwork as Kat Campbell approached her desk, resting a cup of coffee in the corner before she pulled up the opposite chair. "Got a missing persons case today, cracked it in three hours. The Captains thinking of giving me a promotion." She joked, tucking the pen behind her ear. "You look like you woke up on the wrong side of the husband. What's wrong?" 

"Just.. I've just been thinking recently about alot of things." Delaney confessed. "And I don't know what it is, but somethings wrong with John and now I have to imagine him telling it to your _sister_ as opposed to his wife." Kats eyes flickered over to Iris' office door before a devious smirk appeared on her face. 

"Are you jealous, Mrs. Riley?" 

Delaney felt her jaw slacken as she whipped to the side and punched Kat in the arm. "Me? Jealous? Oh no. I just have a hard time with-" Kat rose an eyebrow out of pure amusement as the brunette groaned and rested her head in her hands. "Okay, you can make fun of me forever. I'm jealous." 

"You really don't see it do you?" Kat replied softly. "John will never look at another woman like that because he only has the hots for _you._ I've only worked with John a couple of times, but I can tell you one thing. If it weren't for you, that man would've been dead a long time ago. You two keep each other breathing." 

_Meanwhile inside Iris' Office_

Iris rounded the back of her desk and sat in the chair opposite of John, clipboard in hand. Her brow furrowed in concern whenever she noticed the darkness in Johns eyes that hadn't been there the last time she had seen him. "There seems to be a bit of a darkness around you today, Detective." She pointed out, crossing her legs as she settled into her chair. 

Johns cerulean eyes snapped over to Iris as he slowly exhaled through his nose. "Met a guy this morning who lost someone." He confessed. "It just brought up alot of bad memories.. and alot of pain." Iris pursed her lips and leaned forward on her knees, interest now piqued.

"And how do you handle loss? Because from the way I gather when it comes to your wife, she carries the world on her shoulders." The two of them looked out the glass window of her office door where they could both see Delaney and Kat, laughing as they chatted with one another over a small box of donuts. "She hides it well, but I know very briefly about Mckenna. I'd say she probably claims she can see her." 

"That's something you'd have to take up with Delaney." John replied. "She deals with loss in a different way then I do, and you definitely don't want to go there with how I deal with it." 

"You're retreating inward again, John. You and your partner have a particularly bad habit of doing that." Iris pressed. "What was that you said about new habits?"

A small smile quirked Johns lips upward as his gaze locked on Iris. "Developing new habits isn't as easy as it sounds." He replied. 

From outside the office, Delaney leaned against the desk and found herself gazing at her fellow officers. Many of who she didn't know, most of who she had come to greatly respect. These were people from the same side of the lines as her, people who had hurt and people who had lost. They were just as flawed as she was, just as beautiful. just as broken. 

Which was probably why she hadn't found Mckenna anywhere in the past couple of weeks. 

Since Finch's near capture by Samaritan Operative Claire Mahoney, Delaney had found herself asking alot more questions then she had in the past. Why had Samaritan not gone after her sister? When was it going to kill everyone she loved? _When would it finally win?_

Her heart had been calling out to Mckenna for days now, but she still found herself struggling to see the sight of her long deceased best friend. Maybe she had finally come to the realization that there was nothing she could've done to prevent her from taking that bullet. That she was finally laid to rest.. and there was no real reason to see her everywhere. 

_But that didn't mean that she didn't miss her._

Over the course of their time together, there had been many things that Mckenna had taught her. Simplistic, worldly things. How to hack, how to fight, how to make a decent meal that wouldn't ruin Johns taste buds. But there had been so many emotional aspects too.. how to love, how to grieve, how to _feel._

That was why she felt her heart lift when John stepped out of Iris' office and locked eyes with her from where she sat at her desk, his tongue darting out to lick at his dried lips. Delaney tilted her head and drank in the sight of him; clad in his trench coat with his salt and pepper hair slicked back enough to gaze at his chiseled features. He was always fidgeting with his wedding band and the ring she'd gifted to him years ago.

It suddenly occurred to her the words that Mckenna had uttered in her final moments. 

" _I made a promise."_

A promise that had been fulfilled. A promise to return a woman to a broken man, a promise of love and a promise of hope. Because if had not been for the death of Mckenna Burns...

She would've never gotten to fulfill her greatest fantasy since that fateful day in bootcamp. She would've never gotten to fall in love, and she would've never been able to marry John Reese.


	54. Terra Incognita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And if there's a reason I'm still alive  
> When everyone who loves me has died  
> I'm willing to wait for it

_"I'll see you sometime soon, Zo. I think after that case with Saul it's probably time that we caught up."_

_"Oh, my dear Del.. you never cease to amaze me. Next time we meet, Chinese is on me!"_

"Hey, Wonderboy." John shook himself out of his flashback and lowered his gaze to Lionel, who was staring at him questioningly after just coming from the crime scene in front of them. "Time to pretend to be a detective again, just without your wife this time. Two Brotherhood guys shot dead." A young, dark skinned man was wheeled out of the building on a gurney following the two body bags. "Elias' sole survivor. His name is Carlo. I'll go see what I can find out." 

John tapped the inside of his earpiece. "Finch, I've got two dead Brotherhood guys here whos numbers never came up. Is there some kind of glitch in the Machine?" 

Harold Finch sat quietly inside his desk in the Subway, hand resting against his keyboard and his opposite wrapped around a steaming cup of Sencha tea that Delaney had picked up on her way in this morning. "I certainly hope not. The Machine only picks up on pre-meditated crimes, maybe this was one of opportunity?" 

"Do you think Elias ordered the shooting in retaliation for disappearing three of his men." John remarked. "Get Delaney to help you with this. She'd probably be quite useful." 

"I will have her assist in any technical work with our new number I just received, which is not in relation to Dominic or Elias." Harolds head snapped over to the door as padded combat boots slapped the floor of the Subway, belonging to a tall brunette with a laptop satchel slung over her shoulder and Chinese in her opposite hand. "Chase Patterson, 25, his family slain in 2008." 

"What a tragic story." Delaney mused as she took the seat Finch had previously occupied. "Let me guess... was he a rich kid? Did he ever get convicted?" 

"No, but he was the prime suspect at the time. Before the police could question him, he jumped on a flight to Paris from JFK. This is the first time he's been back to the states since." 

" _You and Fusco stay on Dominic and Elias. I can handle one murderer on my own."_

Delaney blanched as she roughly shook her head. "Jonathan Reese, if you think for a moment that I'm going to let you work another case by yourself, you're probably on something. I'm not letting you-" 

_"This isn't a question, Delaney. It's a statement. I'll work this one myself. End of discussion."_

The firmness of Johns voice was enough to make her heart sink, forcing her to give a subservient nod before she began rifling through her Chinese bag. Harold pursed his lips as he struggled to formulate a question in regards to her submissiveness but instead found himself staring at Root, who had entered the Subway in a wedding dress with the majority of her face hidden by her veil. 

"Congratulations?" 

Delaney snorted as she spun around, takeout box tucked in her lap as she quizzically rose a brow at Root. "Congrats? That's an understatement. I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the fact you're a runaway bride. That's so typical of you." 

"Don't go buying me that blender yet, you two. With Samaritan looking for the Machine I figured I'd do my own search for her." Root replied, removing the veil from her head and tucking it on the bench to her left. "I tried to get close to someone I thought would have answers, but it ended badly. Not only am I still on the market but now I have no leads to help us find her." She plopped down on the bench and chewed on the flesh of her lip as Delaney continued munching on her food, abnormally silent given her normal personality. 

"Miss Groves, how would you like to try your hand at stopping a gang war? It would require figuring out if the Machine if functioning properly." 

For the first time since Sameen Shaws disappearance, Delaney Reese saw a wide, genuine smile spread across Roots face. "Well then, when do we start??" 

***

\- This is after Delaney and John are married - 

" _Do you ever think about the future?" John asked, his voice just above a whisper as he stared at the vacant bar. From her seat beside him, Joss Carter shifted her position and let out a breath. "Maybe something else?"_

_"Sure. Somedays I see so much death I just think about putting in my twenty and getting out." She replied._

_"Where would you go?"_

_His heart lifted at the smile on her face. "The beach. Somewhere that there's no blood, no showing up at somebodys doorstep with news you know is going to ruin their life. Just me and a whole lot of sunshine." John turned his head and regarded the Homicide Detective before speaking again._

_"So what's stopping you?"_

" _Two hours on the beach and I would lose my mind. That and I could never take Taylor out of school. He's doing good.. you know? Making good grades, making decent friends, and Taylor is very proud of his mom." Joss stated proudly. John rested his head back against the drivers seat and subconsciously moved his opposite hand to where his Hebrew engraved ring sat, slowly twisting it back and forth. He had left an exhausted wife in the loft when he'd agreed to do this stakeout with Carter and there was nothing he wanted more then to be in his bed, arm tightly wrapped around her waist and face buried in her hair. Hidden away from the rest of the world._

_"I bet he is." He whispered._

John lifted his head from the box he'd obtained at Evidence to find his wife staring at him, dressed in her favorite trench coat with her hair mussed and hand clutching a cup of coffee. "Hiya gorgeous." Delaney mused, shedding her coat over the back of her chair before moving to stand in front of John. "Root and Finch are going to pay a visit to Elias' guy Carlo. Are you sure you don't want my help with this case? You're not employee of the month, you know." 

Forcing himself to do things around her, like lying, made Johns stomach clench. He would rather die then lie to her, regardless of the fact that Delaney was one of the few people he'd ever let in past his impenetrable walls. 

He managed a faint smile before nodding. "Just working on a cold case. It's not anything major. And besides, you're not much better at being a cop then me."

Her eyes carefully studied his body language as Delaney moved a box of files to sit beside her desk. "John." She called out in that voice that always made his knees tremble. "Are you sure you're okay? We were best friends for years before you married me, you know. I can read when you're lying." 

"I'm sure Kat has something she needs help with. Either that or Finch could surely use your help with Elias. I have this covered." 

Well, whatever it was... John surely didn't want her knowing about it. With a resigned expression Delaney watched as John gathered the case file and his weapon, casting her one last glance before he vanished out the front doors of the 8th Precinct. 

" _Be safe."_

***

_"So now that you know all of my retirement plans, what has the Man In The Suit got planned for after he hangs it up?" Carter questioned, raising an eyebrow as Johns fingers curled around the steering wheel._

" _I haven't given it much thought, but there's nothing I want more then to give Delaney the life she deserves. I'm gonna be the best husband to the best of wives and best of women." He replied softly. "Someday."_

_Joss' smile widened at the thought of John being a domestic husband; hanging up the suit, giving up the vigilante life and spending the rest of his days growing old beside the only woman insane enough to do it with him._

_"I knew you two were going to get married. Never seen someone more in love then the two of you. It's kind of ironic how you go to all of this effort to keep this wall up so high and she's the only person who's ever been able to break it down." She glanced down at her holster on her thigh and pressed her lips together in a thin line. "Spill."_

_"In reality, there is no after for people like us. No beach for you, no domestic life with my wife for me. There is no fairy tale ending. That's how we're built." He murmured._

_Joss lightly shook her head. "You don't really believe that. If you did, you wouldn't have married the woman you love."_

_"Tell me something, what are you doing here in the first place?" John asked, swiveling his head around to gaze back at Joss in the passenger seat. Bitter chill swept through the cracks in the window, sending a violent shiver down Johns spine as he waited for her answer._

_"I'm pretty sure you drove us here."_

_"No, I mean sitting here in this car with me, drinking cold coffee and stalking this bar in the middle of the night." He replied firmly._

_"Well, tell me where else I should be? If we're talking about where we should be, you should be in your loft with your fiance and sleeping the night away." Joss remarked sarcastically._

_"You went to law school. Why not a corner office downtown?"_

_Joss huffed out of annoyance and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. "Thank you for proving my point. I started off on one path, but I changed because that wasn't the endgame for me John. You can change too." John leaned forward and pressed his thumb into the button that controlled the heater in the car, pulling his coat closer to his body._

_"There is no change for people like us, Carter." John snapped. "You're here because this is where you were always headed."_

_Joss snickered under her breath. "No one changes." She repeated. "That's hilarious. This is coming from the man who was a hobo the first night I met him, and his fiance was an alcoholic who tried to drink herself to death. You might not have changed but your wardrobe sure has. Not to mention that Delaney doesn't even pick up a bottle anymore. So whatever path you were on, you took a detour."_

_John turned to the window and glanced out into the vacant street, desperate to turn the conversation onto a different topic. "Yup. And I'll get where I'm going soon enough."_

_"And what does that mean?" Joss asked. John moved to turn on the radio but was stopped by Joss slamming her fingers against the knob to turn it off. "C'mon John, what did you mean??"_

_"I just mean that things work out the way they're supposed to!" John exclaimed._

_Joss' voice fell flat as she harrumphed and turned back to eye the bar in front of them. "Alright, whatever you like." She snapped in response. John rose an eyebrow at her sudden change of tone._

_"Now what does that mean?"_

_"It means there are two kinds of friends." Joss replied sharply. "Ones who you talk about the game with and ones you share your life with. The real stories. Up to you which one you want me to be, but you need to decide because for a spy lying really isn't your strong suit."_

***

"Hey Harold," Delaney called out, re-entering the Subway and collapsing beside Bears dogbed. The older man turned in his chair to face his friend and frowned at her appearance. Blood splattered her normally immaculate attire and her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, her hair messy and hanging over her eyes. Bear whined as he licked at the dried blood on her face as Delaney buried it in his fur. "Hello sexy. Yeah.. you can lick this blood off me." 

"Mrs. Reese, do you mind telling me why you're covered in blood and _if_ it's yours?" 

Delaney lifted her head away from the dog and cleared her throat. "I was on my way here from the Precinct. I would've taken my bike but given that it's winter.. That's a reckless decision in itself and John took our car on his wild goose chase. So Kat Campbell and I were on our way when we were intercepted by your dear friend Claire."

"Claire, as in Claire Mahoney?" Finch pressed, concern flashing over his features. He'd only recently been played by the young Samaritan operative and if she had blown Delaneys police cover, everything would be going to hell in a matter of hours. 

"Yeah. She came up and tried to convince me that Samaritan was holding my sister hostage in order to lure me over to their team. When I told her there was no chance in hell of that happening, she tried to waste Kat, and so I wasted her. Single shot to the head, no trail to follow. I did manage to get blood on myself though. It was pretty close range." She turned back to the entrance of the Subway and cupped her hands over her mouth. "You can come in now!" 

Kat Campbell stumbled into the Subway and stared at their headquarters with awe and confusion on her face until her eyes finally settled on the older man with the glasses and kind smile Delaney had told her so much about. 

"So what is this I hear about a cyber apocalypse against two AIs?" 

***

Pain. All he felt was indescribable, searing pain through the entire left side of his body. His clothes were slick with snow and his vision blurred as John reached for the weapon secured around his ankle, a tactic he'd picked up from Delaney in boot camp. 

He heard a single gunshot, and then there was nothing but the dark. That's all there ever was. 

" _The night we met, Transit picked you up on the J train at Canal. So either you were going to pay a traffic ticket at three AM or you were going to take a walk on the Brooklyn Bridge. Is that the path you were talking about?" Joss questioned. Embarrassment and defeat flooded Johns expression as he reached for the photo he always kept on the inside of his coat. The same one that Jessica had seen when she'd first asked about Delaney before having met her in person._

_"I lost the first woman I loved. Her name was Jessica. I was so focused on trying to get over Delaney when she went MIA and her- our best friend had died.. I wanted a distraction. I never expected to fall in love with Jess."_

_"I know firsthand that Delaney blamed herself for a long time for not getting there to save Jessica sooner. She knew that woman meant the world to you, and didn't interfere in when you fell in love with her. Delaney tried to save Jessica in order to save you. You can't blame yourself for what happened to her." Joss replied, her voice lower as she attempted to comfort the other man in her words._

_"It's not a question of blame. It's a fact. She needed me and I left her behind. The job.. I may have been good at it, but I didn't enjoy it. I mainly stayed there because it helped me to feel close to my best friend."_

_Joss felt her heart sink as she imagined what John would've been like at a younger age. The protector of not one but three women, two of which grew into soldiers beside him, and one he was forced to leave behind for his career._ " _Can I ask why?"_

_"I thought I wasn't going to make it back alive. She deserved a better life then waiting to become a widow. She deserved happiness." He slowly closed his eyes and lightly shook his head to ward off the impending tears that blurred his vision. "Not quite how it worked out though."_

_"But through Jessica dying, you reunited with the woman who keeps you going. The one thing you have to wake up to and the woman who makes your knees weak when you see her smile. It's like your whole world got brighter whenever she came back into your life." Joss murmured. "But are you happy?" The pregnant pause after her question was indication enough that he'd rather not have answered. "I'm sorry for Jessica, John. But I'm not buying it. You may be able to fool your shrink with that story, maybe even yourself."_

_His eyes were so sad, so without hope, so ancient. "But not you, huh?"_

_"Not me, and not her either." Joss said, motioning to the back seat. John tilted his head in confusion as he peered through the mirror only to see the silhouetted body of Mckenna Burns with her arms spread across the back seat, her eyes locked with his own. "Met Mckenna little while back, we got along well. She told me all about how you used to be, how Delaney used to be. You can't fool me that easy. You're forgetting I was over there too. So was she."_

_It was the first time Mckenna had gazed upon him since the day she'd left that hangar. "You were deployed when you broke things off and active military whenever you met, John. So.. you wanna tell us what really happened?"_

_"What does it matter now?!" John snapped._

_"You're an idiot." Mckenna retorted, leaning in between Joss and John. "It matters now because you're going to use this poor woman to push everyone out right up until the bitter end. I think you wanted to be alone for the rest of your life.. but that ridiculously hard headed woman broke into your impenetrable wall and fixed what was left of your heart. You can't tell me or Miss Homicide over here that you're not head over heels for Delaney Reese."_

" _Time is running out, John."_

_Johns brow shot up in disbelief. "Time? We've got all the time in the world! Benny's asleep, it'll be hours before Finch brings us breakfast-"_

_"No John. We mean time is **running** out." Mckenna replied sharply. A look of sorrow crossed over her face as she turned his head so they were looking at one another. _

_"You're dying."_

_That was when he registered the bitter chill flowing through the cracked window, the stickiness of his hands where they rested on his side, the heaviness of his heart. He'd driven up to the Patterson Cabin and had been shot twice, then in retaliation had killed Chases brother and left him in the snow. "Poor idiot had no idea what was coming."_

_"I don't understand this." He murmured to himself. "Why are you here, Mckenna? Delaney hasn't seen you in weeks. Hasn't even brought your name up.. I thought you were finally at peace."_

_"I am at peace John. Have you ever felt the kind of peace that settles deep into your bones? I didn't even know that existed until I passed, and let me tell you.. It's time for you to experience it. But the only way you can do that is if you hold on for your wife. That's all you've learned to live for, yeah?"_

_Soft fingers rested against the curve of his shoulder as Joss cleared her throat. "You got him, John. The monster that killed Chases family. He got you pretty good too. You managed to get to Chase's car, but you need to get help. Otherwise you're going to die."_

_His heart pounded frantically in his sternum as his muddled thoughts fought through the limited amount of options. "I've lost some blood but I don't think I'll bleed out before they get here." John replied weakly. Joss rose an eyebrow in confusion as she and Mckenna exchanged glances._

_"Before who gets here?"_

_"Finch, Fusco.. Delaney." His breath dissipated in the air as his thoughts finally focused on his wife. "Delaney has never given up on me before. She won't do it now."_

_"You seem to be forgetting something, smart one." Mckenna chided. "You didn't tell anybody you were coming up here. True to form. It's just you and us, John. I'm not gonna stay much longer though.. You and Del don't need me anymore."_

_Her statement made his heart clench. "You were the greatest friend we had." John replied, lifting his head to gaze at the blonde woman through the rear view mirror. Her eyes glimmered with what looked to be sadness as they stared at one another. "You taught her more about herself then she knew what to do with. You..." He swallowed the crack in his voice and shuddered. "You can be at peace now, Mckenna. Rest."_

_And with that, she was gone._

" _You're probably right. It won't be the blood loss.. It'll be the cold that kills you first. You need to get those keys."_

***

"So you're telling me that you built an AI that was meant to stop pre-meditated crimes from happening after 9/11, and it's mainly honed in on New York. Someone else built one as well and it was stolen by the wrong people, thus turned rogue, and now it's looking to destroy the AI with the humanity.. compassion... etc?" 

Harolds eyes flickered over to where Delaney sat, her elbows pressed into her knees as Kat relayed everything she had gotten from their explanation. "That about sums it up, yeah." Delaney replied. "Samaritan captured one of our own after she had her cover blown. John and I aren't really cops.. it's just a double life we lead. If it weren't for the Machine, I wouldn't be alive and we wouldn't have been brought back together." 

"Miss Campbell," Harold interjected. "Delaney has brought to my attention many times how well you work with both her and her husband, and as well your partner Detective Fusco. I believe you would be a valuable asset to our team and would very much like to extend the invitation." 

Kat ran a hand through her hair and considered her options. It meant less secret keeping from Delaney, but more questions and much more risk that came with the job. Not to mention she'd have to hide it from Iris - but what hadn't she already been hiding? 

"This all sounds like a really cheesy science fiction movie." She confessed. "But I would love to be apart." 

***

_John slowly opened the car door as another wave of pain rippled through his body, causing him to fall face first into the snow. "Alright, keep it moving. You know how this works. You stop, you die. Pretty self explanatory if you ask me." With each word his arms forced him to crawl through the deep rut in the snow that Phil had created, his focus set on obtaining the car keys. "C'mon, you've seen worse then this. You didn't really survive all of that just to end up dying now? Out here alone at the hands of a psycho who got off one lucky shot." John exhaled sharply as his breathing became labored, muscles screaming in protest as his eyes narrowed in on the body in front of him. He cast an exasperated look back at Carter before continuing. "I didn't think so."_ _John dug his fingers into deep pockets as he reached the body, pulling out the keys and resting them on Phils chest in victory. "Good job John. Knew you had it in you."_

" _Are you sure you were an interrogator and not a drill sergeant?"_

_"I thought you liked following orders. You think you can make it back?" Joss questioned. It took just as long for John to reach the car as it did the body, pulling himself into the drivers seat and cranking up the heat as high as it would possibly go. His body relaxed against the material of the seat as he firmly held his hand over the wound on his side._

_"If I'm going to bleed to death, it's a good thing I'm going to go while listening to good music." John murmured, oblivious to the smile that spread across Joss' face._

_"Now this one we can agree on." She replied._

_He felt a warm sense of security every time he was around Carter, even before he had watched her die in his arms. Granted it wasn't the same security that came whenever he was with Delaney, but he had always thoroughly enjoyed spending time with the Homicide Detective. "I missed you." He confessed, his voice barely above a whisper._

_Joss smiled warmly. "That's good. Being missed means you meant something to someone while you were here." There was a moment of brief silence before she spoke again. "So, you're a cop now?" The laughter that broke past her lips made Johns heart ache._

_"Not a real one."_

_"Well that shield looks pretty real. So does the dead bad guy in the snow." She shot back. "Even got yourself a partner. Your poor wife.."_

_John ran a hand over his face and leaned back into the seat. What was left of his adrenaline was slowly working into keeping his eyes open, replaced by exhaustion and exposure to the bitter cold outside the car. "Wait, what are we still doing here?" He exclaimed. "I can drive us back."_

_"John-"_

_"Is there something wrong with this heater? I'm burning up in here!" His voice rose as panic flooded his face. If he held on just a little longer then his wife would rescue him. She always did._

_"Then why can I see your breath, huh? It's not too hot. It's too cold." Joss snapped. Johns eyes narrowed as he exhaled only to find himself staring at his breath dissipating in the air. "Engine won't start. Cars don't like the cold." John attempted to start the car, cursing as the engine sputtered in response. "C'mon John, you know this! The heat you're feeling is a hallucination." His blood roared in his ears as John swiveled his head to gaze at the Detective. "The last symptom of hypothermia. You're freezing to death, John."_

The cold and the dark. His constant companions in the entirety of his life. The cold, the dark, the loneliness.

But at the edge of it all was the light - _his light -_ beckoning him home with a smile and a wave of her hand. The woman who kept him going. The best of wives, best of women. The smile that made his heart stop and the words that broke down the walls around it. 

_Johns eyes felt like led as he struggled to keep them open. Joss called out to him aimlessly, hand firmly wrapped around his arm to shake him awake. "John-John! You've got to stay awake. Concentrate." She persisted, her brow furrowing in confusion when John moved to open the door. "Where are you going?"_

_"The highway. I can flag down a car-"_

_"And that would be the hypothermia talking. You're confused."_

_"I'm not!" John snapped. "Look, here comes one."_

_Both of them turned to the front windshield only to find the serene sight of an empty house and field in front of them, the field covered in a thick layer of newly fallen snow. The wind created a haunting melody as it whistled through the trees until nothing but silence greeted them. "Those aren't headlights." Joss whispered. "That's the moon."_

" _The moon?" John replied. "Del.. Del loves the moon."_

_"The storm passed." Johns face fell as he shut the car door and settled back into his seat, defeat weighing heavy on his heart as realization hit him._

_"No-No ones coming." He said quietly to himself._

Inside the Subway, Harold worked furiously to pinpoint Johns exact location. Kat had gone home a hour before to her sister which left Delaney, Harold and Root alone in the Subway. "Del, he's gonna be okay." Root assured. "I know you're worried-" 

"As glad as I am that you're not dead, you really aren't helping." She snapped unintentionally, lifting her head to the ceiling and wrapping her hands around her hips. "I'm always worried about John. I can't-" Delaney felt her voice break as she lowered her gaze to meet the amber eyes of the woman beside her. "I can't take losing John. _I can't."_

"Have you found anything yet Harry?" Root asked, wrapping her hands around Delaneys upper arms to hold her in place. 

"I've been working to pinpoint Johns last location on our mesh network. Unfortunately, the signal was lost soon after and I have no other means of determining his location." 

Wrenching herself out of Roots hold, Delaney sunk to her knees and pressed her hands over her mouth as a wave of tears blurred her vision. "I-I can't- I can't lose him!" She cried out, tears running down the soft features of her face. "Not after Sameen.. Not after everything we've endured." Root gently shushed the other woman and knelt down in front of her, wrapping her arms around her middle and pulling her into a warm embrace. "I can't lose the man I l-love again." 

"You keep hyperventilating like this and you're going to give yourself a panic attack." Root gently carded her fingers through her hair as Delaney sunk into her embrace, gripping the edges of her shirt as tears soaked through the fabric. "Breathe with me." 

_"It's beautiful, isn't it? No noise. No people. It's beautiful." John focused solely on his breathing as Joss continued. "So you might as well tell me why you left her behind. There's no taking secrets where you're going... trust me." Surprise flickered in her eyes as John slowly began to weave his story._

_"First tour we were making our way through the mountains at night. We heard shooting. Group of rangers had stumbled into the Taliban in the dark. By the time we had gotten there, they were all dead. Both sides." His eyes gently fluttered shut. "It was one of those things where we had to be over the mountains by sunrise, so we searched them. Took their tags, their water, their ammunition and we just kept moving. And then I noticed something. They all had a picture. Girlfriend, wife, kid. After a while I realized that everybody I found on either side had a picture."_

_"They were fighting for something-"_

_His voice turned hard, his expression pained. "They were dying for something." John snapped weakly. "Figured maybe if I didn't have a picture to carry around with me that I'd be better at my job. But then there was this ring." He held up the Hebrew engraved ring in the moonlight. "Simple gift Delaney got on an op she did before she quit the CIA. So regardless of the fact that I didn't have a picture of Jess, I was still willing to die for that woman who'd given me this ring. That's when I knew I'd let her slip away.. That I had made the wrong choice. When I got back was when I broke things off with Jessica."_

_"Maybe you're right then." Joss stated. "Maybe this is the path that you've been on all along. The path that led you right here. Don't reach out to anyone except your wife on the rarest of occasions, shut everybody out."_

_"Not everyone." John replied. "I didn't shut her out, and I didn't shut you out either. I could talk with you about the things that really mattered." His eyes flickered between the blood stained photo and the ring on his hand. The two women in his life. The ones that made him the man he was.. And all he'd done in return was shut them both out when all they wanted to do was give him the love he thought he didn't deserve._

_"But John.. you never did."_

_"What?" John asked. "Of course I did." Joss lightly shook her head, hair falling into her ominous eyes as John swallowed the bile threatening to rise in his throat. "That night we were staking out the bar. We talked!"_

_"Yes, about music, our jobs, your wife. That was it!"_

_John huffed in frustration. "I talked about Jessica too. I told you about her. How she liked the rain and sleeping in." He knew by the decrease in the volume of his voice that a part of him didn't believe the words coming out of his mouth._

" _John, I'd wished we'd had that conversation." Joss confessed. "But we never did."_

_John pulled out the photo of him and Jessica. "This picture, remember? You kept this and you gave it to me whenever we talked about her that night."_

_"I kept the photo, but I never gave it to you. You were talking about the path you were on and I asked if you wanted to talk about it, and you didn't."_

_"But-But I did-"_

_"No. You cracked a couple of really stupid jokes and then you turned the radio up. We never got to Jessica." Joss pressed. "I kept that photo to give to you at the right moment when you were willing to share that part of yourself with me, but you never were John. It's like you said. You're here because you were always headed here."_

_John swallowed the lump in his throat and focused on the view outside the window. "I wanted to talk to you about her. Tell you all the plans I had for Del. I just.." He screwed his eyes tightly shut in hopes that it would ward away his tears. "I just wish we had more time."_

_"Yeah well, that's something we never get enough of."_

_John leaned his head against the shattered window. "You're right." He murmured. "I don't let people in. I try so hard with Delaney because everything with her is so familiar.. but there are things about me she doesn't know. But that's not why I didn't tell anyone about the case. I didn't want her to help me because I wanted to close this one myself."_

_"Why?"_

_His next statement broke her heart as a single tear rolled down his face. "Because it was a chance to be close to you again." John said quietly. "I didn't want to share that with anyone else."_

_"There was another reason I kept that photo. There was a side of you I'd never seen before - not in person, anyway. I knew by looking at you that you love Delaney. But in this... you were happy, hopeful, in love. You can have all of that with the woman who pledged the rest of her life to you. You've just gotta hold on, John. There are people who care about you. A wife who would die for you. You've just gotta let them in. It's like what you told me before, whether I liked it or not, I wasn't alone."_

_His lips were salty with tears as John studied Carter one last time - his expression one of gratitude - as he pondered his next words. "Will you stay with me?" John asked. "Just for a little bit?"_

_"Yes." Joss immediately responded, extending her hand to wrap her fingers through his own. "Yes. Just hold on for her, John. Hold on for Del."_

"Fusco, can you please drive any faster?!" Delaney snapped, rifling through her medical bag as Lionel drove through the snow covered street and into the mountains where the cabin John had left for was. "I don't want to be too late!" He slammed on the brakes and pulled the car to a stop as they arrived in the driveway beside another car, the window shattered and an unconscious body on the inside. " _John!"_

Delaney stumbled out of the car and into the snow, her nose red with the frigid cold as Lionel opened the car door and John nearly fell into her arms. Tears of relief cascaded down her cheeks as the Detective helped hoist him into the back seat of the vehicle they'd brought, sliding him in between Delaneys legs so his head was resting on her shoulder. " _Del._ " He croaked, his head limp against her shoulder as she worked feverishly to help stop the bleeding. "I-I held on for you." 


	55. Nearing The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When you care about someone... hurt is kind of part of the package."   
> \- Beth Greene

"Seems like I'm always waking up at the side of your bed. It's a freaking miracle I haven't been shot yet." A gentle voice whispered as fingers trailed over the contours of his face. "G'morning John. You slept for two days again." His eyelids fluttered open to reveal his wife kneeling by his bedside and dressed in her work outfit. "How do you feel?" 

"Like I've been shot. But considering.. I'll live." He replied groggily. Delaney rose an eyebrow and gasped as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into the bed, fingers lightly digging into her sides as she bucked beneath his ministrations. "Mm. You smell like lilac."

Delaney relaxed in his embrace as his nose ghosted over the curve of her shoulder. "Well, I may have bought myself a new bottle of that perfume you love. Gotta keep the husband happy." She replied, wriggling out of his arms and sitting on the edge of the bed to slip into her boots. "Fusco has something that he wants you to look into. I'm gonna call Kat and meet up for coffee then meet you wherever you end up. Okay?" 

"Okay." John murmured, pushing hair out of his eyes as he watched her form amble across the room; hips lightly swaying and her now shoulder length hair fall in gentle ringlets across the planes of her shoulder blades. He brought himself to sit up at the waist in his bed as he carefully watched her finish getting ready for work. No matter what she did or what she wore, Delaney always managed to be the most graceful of all the women he knew. "Hey Juliet." 

Her heart nearly stopped at the familiar nickname. She hadn't heard him say it in months. "Wow. Nice to know a nickname can make my heart stop." She whispered, turning around at the door of their loft. "Romeo?'' 

John remembered Carter and Mckennas words to him in the car. _Open yourself up. Strive to be better. Live a life you deserve._ "I love you. Be safe for me, okay?" John called out, wiggling his eyebrows for an amusing effect. A breathless smile spread across her pale skin as she blew him a kiss. 

"Absolutely." 

*** 

Fortunately for her, Kat and Iris' apartment was not far from the Loft that she and John shared. So whenever she arrived with hot coffee around nine that morning, to say that Iris was stunned to see her was an understatement. "Delaney? Are you here to meet with my sister?" Iris questioned, eyes narrowing at the cups of coffee in her hands. 

''I'm sorry to disturb you on your day off Iris, but I called Kat before I came over here. We normally go on coffee runs before work and it's remarkably useful against the bitter cold that comes with living in New York." Delaney replied, raising her cup. "Mind if I come in? I might freeze to death out here." 

"Sure. I'll go and see if Kat is almost done." 

Iris disappeared around the corner and into the larger bedroom of their two bedroom apartment, leaving Delaney alone in the living room. Their accented slate walls were covered in family photos, many of which were more recent and only of the two sisters. With all of the sentimentality in the air of the apartment, it gave off a very _homely_ feel she was not used to. 

"I signed off on you and John. Not sure if it was a smart idea.. but compared to your demeanor when we met I'd say you've come a good distance since your torture." Iris interjected, interrupting her thoughts as she reappeared in the adjoined kitchen. "I wanted to congratulate you on getting this far, Delaney. I was so convinced for a long time that you would just.. disappear into yourself after what happened to you. To say I was impressed when you made something out of it is an understatement." 

Delaney managed a weak smile at the redheaded woman as she took a sip of her coffee. There were many details she'd left out of particular topics when she'd been with Iris, but in due time, she'd learned to respect the older Campbell sister. She was intuitive and genuinely cared much like Kat did, but there were still things about the life that she and John lived that Iris could never understand. 

"Thank you for your help, Iris." Delaney replied. "I may not be completely sane, but I'm working my way up to it." 

Her sentence ended their conversation as Kat appeared by the front door, dressed in a white sweater and blue beanie as she tugged it over her head followed by her pea coat. "Are we ready?" She asked, eyes flickering between her sister and her closest friend as Delaney nodded. Kat gave a eager wave to Iris before leading Delaney out of their apartment and into the morning. "That was some sentimental crap that just came out of your mouth." 

"Your sister is something else, let me tell you." Delaney murmured sarcastically. "I never got around to trusting her entirely, but she's got a good heart. This world needs people like her. Compassionate, humbly driven citizens who just want to do some good for once." 

Kat quirked an eyebrow from behind her coffee cup as she raised her hand to the oncoming traffic to flag down their taxi cab. "But.. isn't that the description of you?" She questioned curiously. Delaney smiled wryly as she sank into the cab seat, basking in the warmth from the heater as a peaceful sigh escaped her lips. 

"Once upon a dream, my dear Kat." 

Root was there to greet them upon their arrival to the Precinct. "There are my two favorite ladies." She commented, causing Kat to snort out of amusement as she removed her hat and tucked it into the drawer of her desk. Delaney paused in her chair as her eyes flickered around their side of the Precinct only to find that John had never made it in to begin with, and neither had Lionel. "Your boys are currently digging themselves deeper into the middle of the gang war. That's why I'm here." 

Delaney frowned at the expression on Roots face. "Alright lover, tell me what happened and why you look like you could explode into a mess of hysterical sobbing in the next five seconds." She replied curtly, swiveling the chair back around so the two women were facing one another. The vacant expression in her eyes was enough to answer her questions for her. "Shaw." 

Root nodded wearily. "I got a phone call from her cell. She's in trouble, Delaney. Shaw is alive and in trouble and we all just _abandoned_ her." She snapped bitterly, her trembling hands firmly pressed against her knees as a wave of tears blurred her vision. "Harry wanted me to come here and retrieve our newest member to come with us to the Asylum we tracked Sameens phone to. You're supposed to be Johns backup." 

Kat and Delaney gazed at one another before the younger brunette shrugged and reached into her desk, fastening her holster onto her hip. "Well then, let's get going." She called out, curving around the other officers and out of their sight. Root cast a somber expression over her shoulder as Delaneys gaze fixated on John's desk. "C'mon Root!" 

"I hate to get so somber all of a sudden, but I'm pretty sure we're reaching the end of something." Delaney murmured, snapping her own holster onto her thigh before pulling her hat back on and rushing out of the Precinct. "Maybe this is our end to all we've ever known." 

_"Not today, sunshine."_ Fusco interjected into her earpiece, nearly causing the brunette to jump out of her skin. " _Cocoa Puffs called me thirty seconds ago and told me to fill you in on what's going on with the Brotherhood and Elias' guys. You ready for this?"_

And so for the next thirty minutes Delaney patiently listened to Fusco fill in all of the details on the gang war between Dominic and Elias as she made her way to the bank he'd mentioned in the middle of the conversation. " _We're at the Lower Manhattan Savings Bank."_ Fusco remarked. " _Meet us here as soon as possible."_

She slipped inside the back door with ease, hand hidden beneath her coat around her favorite weapon and her eyes carefully peeled for any signs of Elias. Her feet softly padded against the marble steps as she made her way into the vault, sighing in relief when she recognized the thick form of John in the doorway. "Well, if it isn't my favorite cryptic." Delaney mused, raising her hands in surrender as she stepped into the vault. All four men whipped around to gaze at the woman, Elias being the only one to feign a weak smile. "Glad to see you aren't dead, Elias." 

"Likewise, Delaney." He replied curtly. "Now back to the matter at hand. You two obviously didn't get what I said before. I don't _need_ saving." Delaney snorted softly as she leaned into the vault door, lips pressed into a thin line as she listened to their bickering over his safety. 

"How long do you think it'll be before the Brotherhood comes looking to make a withdrawal?" Fusco retorted. Elias ignored his question and lifted his eyes to the ceiling where a network of tubes disappeared into the five boroughs of New York. 

"Pneumatic tubes that used to run all throughout the city." He stated. "Delivering mail and money. American ingenuity at its finest. And you would have me _leave?_ Flee like a coward? You know me better then that, John. I'd even go as far to say is that your life partner over there knows me better then that too." 

"You know, I've really come to respect you over the years. You were a conniving, careful man when we met. But a canister in the trash? That's sloppy, even for you. I've gotta say I'm a tiny bit disappointed." Delaney tutted, digging her fingers deep into her coat pockets as she lightly clucked her tongue. "Not to mention it's enough evidence to charge you with conspiracy to commit murder. Like I said.. _sloppy._ " 

"Are you placing me under arrest, Detectives?" 

In a single heartbeat there were multiple weapons brought out across all five who stood in the vault, fingers loosely wrapped around the triggers and prepared to fire at any given point. "If you don't go quietly." John replied. "It's time to end this war." 

"This is your last chance, Detectives. Walk away while you still can." 

It seemed as if a switch immediately turned itself on inside of Delaney whenever gunfire began to ring out on the floor above, sending Elias' lackey into action as he sprinted past her and out of sight. "Well, there goes our luck right out the window." She muttered, revealing her weapon and moving to stand closer to John, hips nearly touching as they searched for his usual back door in case of emergencies. 

"Can't say I didn't warn you." Elias replied. 

John motioned to the Kingpin with a flick of his wrist. "Hurry. Del, you cover him." Fusco and John led their way out of the vault, covering the main staircase as the gunfire slowly began making its way closer to the basement. "We need that other way out, Elias!" 

"Just like old times. This way!" Elias exclaimed, jogging beside Delaney as he led the three Detectives down a different hallway only to be intercepted by multiple Brotherhood men with Dominic at the helm, weapon held to the center of Elias' chest. 

" _Fooled me once, old man."_

*** 

Kat watched through her peripheral vision as Root forced Harold into the back of the ambulance to change his clothing, dusting at her damp coat before turning to the Homicide Detective. "I've heard about your skills. You're a good sister and a phenomenal cop, which means that you're going to come in handy when the two of us break into Samaritans headquarters. You nervous yet?" 

"I come from a home where one of the first things I was taught was that I wasn't their blood child. Just some safe haven baby dropped off at the front of a hospital. Then they decided to teach me how to shoot a gun." Kat replied. "Breaking and entering may be against the law, but it's not the end of the world for me. I'm more then okay with taking out people who hurt more then heal. That's always been my job." 

"This isn't just Sameen we're saving, Kat. This is also the Machine. An AI who saved your closest friend and her husband, who taught me how to truly appreciate life for what it is. You don't know that much about what we do and you're still willing to sacrifice your life for the cause?" Root asked, stunned by her sudden dedication. 

"If the cause saves the people I care about, then _absolutely."_

_Meanwhile inside the Bank - John, Delaney, Elias, Lionel._

"Detective, looks like you caught a bullet to the shoulder." Link proclaimed, wide smile spread across his face. Johns gaze narrowed to his peripheral vision where Delaney was idly hanging by beside him, head limply hanging to the chest as another man finished the zip ties around her wrists. "Props to the shooter." 

"It's just a stained shirt, man." John replied. "The shooter is dead." 

"Well, you'll be joining him soon enough." Link snapped, his ominous eyes stopping on the woman beside John who was now wide awake and alert and glaring holes through his skull. "Oh look, the unnamed woman is finally awake. Care to introduce yourself, sweetheart?" 

Link recoiled immediately as Delaney reared her head back and spat directly in his face, snickering quietly under her breath as he used his sleeve to wipe the spittle from his skin. "There's no need for that," Dominic announced, stepping deeper into the room and in the center of the four people he'd managed to capture. "I've been watching her for quite a while. Lady over here is Rileys wife. I'm sure of it." He straightened his spine and paused briefly. "What did the Romans say? I came, I saw, I conquered."

" _You can't conquer what you don't understand."_

"Exactly!" Dominic exclaimed. "In this day and age a fugitive crime lord like yourself remains free. How? Because three of New Yorks finest protect and serve you! At least they used to. From now on, they answer to me and me alone. And you're all going to tell me how this little symbiotic relationship works because if you don't-" He pivoted on his foot and turned towards Delaney, who was watching him through narrowed brown eyes. "I'm going to off the woman first. No man can handle watching a woman be murdered in front of them. _Especially_ if it's your wife." 

As Link drew his boss into the corner for a hushed discussion, Delaney took the opportunity to slowly begin easing the knife she'd strapped to the inside of her arm down towards her fingers, thus giving her an opportunity to cut at the zip ties. Her eyes remained focus on the ground in front of her, her expression vacant and lips pursed as she struggled to concentrate. 

"Sorry boys and girls." Her head snapped upward as Harper Rose entered the room, hands extended and lips quirked upward. "But I just got an offer I couldn't refuse." 

_ The Asylum _

" _The ninth floor is for the most violent patients. It's the most secure and the only one without surveillance cameras."_

Root rushed up the stairs in front of Kat, both women dressed in pristine lab coats they'd used when admitting Harold into the psychiatric ward. "It's also the only floor with secure elevator access. This has to be it." Root replied, ducking through the door in front of her and tiptoeing around the corner. "Stay behind me Kat." 

She had never met this Sameen Shaw that Delaney had spoken so highly of, but going from the fierce determination displayed by Root and Harold both, Kat was sure that this woman meant the world to the members of Team Machine. 

" _I'm searching the electronic charts for a profile that might match Sameens."_ There was a pregnant pause as Root and Kat found themselves in a networked hallway that lead to more secure exam rooms. " _Alright Miss Campbell, don't let Miss Groves lose her head. They're holding a compact Persian sociopath in Room 914."_

 _"_ Stay tuned Harold." Kat whispered, tapping the inside of her earpiece and following Root through another locked door secured by a keypad which brought them to a smaller collection of dimly lit hallways. "Where are we?" The two women stopped in front of a door as Root peered in through the glass, only to immediately recoil and press herself into the wall. 

"We need to leave. _Now."_

_"Why, Miss Groves?"_

"This is Samaritans base of operations. We're in the belly of the beast!" 

_Lower Manhattan Savings Bank_

They were working on breaking them. One by one, until the weakest cracked. 

_It's a good thing I've done this all before._

"Well, your husband didn't listen so maybe I'll have better luck with you." Dominic jeered, taking a seat in front of Delaney and clasping his hands together. "Where do you two meet Harold? Is there a safe house in the city?" The brunette woman gasped as Link took the tip of his knife and slowly began to dig into the skin of her shoulder. "I don't like hurting women, but I will tear you apart piece by piece until your husband screams for you to be shown mercy." 

Delaney lifted her head and smiled. "It's a good thing I've been broken plenty of times before then. You kind of become immune to it after a while." She snarled, gasping sharply as Link pulled the knife out of her shoulder as quickly as it'd gone in. "I may be many things, but disloyal is not one of them." 

The two men delivered her at Johns knees less then twenty minutes later before leaving the three of them alone to deal with more important business. "You alright?" John said quietly, face glistening with sweat as her head fell limp against his knee. "You're bleeding." 

"Well thank you Captain Obvious. Isn't it pretty clear that I have a stab wound?" She retorted, lifting her bound hands to wipe at the sweat gathering on her brow. "Not the worst I've been through, let me tell you. Vigilance was much, much worse." 

"You are abnormally calm, John." Elias interjected, cradling his injured hand as John rested his own on top of Delaneys head. 

"I took a trip to the mountains recently and saw some old friends." He murmured in response, carefully threading his fingers through her dark hair. "They just reminded me of what I had been missing." His weary cerulean eyes flickered down to meet those of his wife, who was staring at him with such a look of awe in her eyes that it almost made his heart skip a beat. 

"And what is that?" 

" _Life."_

Elias laughed quietly under his breath. "And yet here you are, stuck in a dark basement with me and your wife. You should've heeded my warning." Delaney tilted her chin downward and grimaced at the amount of blood that had gathered on her teeshirt, her jacket long discarded along with her hidden knife. It wasn't enough for her to bleed out, but it was more then likely something that would have to be stitched up once they escaped. 

"You knew the Brotherhood was coming, didn't you?" John asked. "That canister in the trash, that wasn't a mistake." The grin on Elias' face widened as the two men regarded one another. 

"Did I leave a bread crumb?" He asked, smile wide and eyes brightening. 

"So that's what been up your sleeves. Trap door, pneumatic tubes rigged with C4."

As fast as the happiness had come, his face immediately fell as the realization dawned upon him. "Afraid this is my last stand." Elias said quietly. "You're an honorable man, John. Your wife is the most fearless woman I've ever met. It's been nice knowing you." His eyes fell on Delaney as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. "And nice to see you learn from your mistakes." 

The lock to the door clicked open as Link and Dominic stepped through followed by another woman she didn't recognize. "Gonna need you to write a letter with your good hand. At dawn, 3648 Lafayette Avenue." Her eyes narrowed as the earpiece in her ear crackled to life, but no voice emerged from the other side. _Not yet anyway._

"Unless you want Riley here to wipe for you from now on." 

Johns eyes darkened as Delaney tucked between his knees. "Why don't you come a little closer?" He taunted. Link grimaced and attempted to move past Dominic but was instead met with a firm hand to the chest. 

"I can settle my own score, John." Elias replied, gripping the pen with his good hand as he scribbled on the pad of paper. "Our friends are upset because they have discovered a traitor in their midst." 

"Now write Veni Vidi Vici." 

_See_

"That's the address for the Brotherhoods base of Operations." 

_You_

"As far as your men are concerned, you just gave them orders to invade." Dominic responded, shoving the slip of paper into the canister before handing it off. 

"And when they come, I assume the Brotherhood will be waiting?" 

He nodded firmly. "Your men can either die by your hands or you can give me the name of the rat in my crew." Dominic spoke. "It's entirely your choice." 

_There._

_ The Asylum _

Kat let out a low groan as she snapped awake, her body firmly pressed against an unknown assailant and the barrel of a weapon pinned to the side of her head. "There's no use in struggling, Miss Campbell." An older man chided, his cunning blue eyes appearing in front of her. "We injected a bit of a sedative into your system so none of my men would end up dead. It's only for our own safety." 

She growled lowly under her breath as a brunette woman appeared in her peripheral vision, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at Root in the hospital bed. "Lets get her strapped to the bed." She demanded. "This won't take long." Root immediately lashed out at the two nearest guards, knocking them both unconscious before two other men overpowered her and strapped her in leather restraints on the hospital bed.

"Really Miss Groves, there is such a thing as nobility in defeat. I have everything I need to find the Machine. No amount of kicking will change that." The older man tutted. 

"If you've found the Machine, I'd be the first to know." Root snarled. 

The grey haired man rose his brow in disbelief. "Exactly! We have scoured every network device on the planet without success. Until I realized that you are the last piece of the puzzle. The answer is in your head!" Her eyes widened with fear as the brunette woman took another step closer to her, her fingers curling over the shell of her ear. 

"Your cochlear implant. Your little girlfriend told us all about it.'' 

"We have no reason to lie about something like that." The older man replied, then swiveling on his heel to turn around and face Kat. "My apologies, Miss Campbell. I'm well aware that these affairs really do not concern you but I think it best to introduce myself. My name is Greer and the brunette woman you keep staring daggers into is Martine." 

Kat snorted under her breath and tilted her head at the brunette woman. " _Martine?_ " She ridiculed. "What kind of a name is that?!" 

"A name of a woman who could end you before your next heartbeat." Martine replied sharply. Kat gasped as the metal of the weapon at her head dug deeper into her skin, sure to leave a brand on her temple. 

" _I'd love to see you try._ " 

Greer cleared his throat and turned to Harold who was staring at the two women wide eyed beneath the rims of his glasses. "Back to the matter at hand, it's a pleasure to see you Harold. You're just in time to see us cut your friends head open! There will be some brain damage, but you'll still be able to clothe and feed yourself. I can't say you'll be much of a marksman moving forward." 

_In the end we can only regret the chances we didn't take._

The gentle hum of a medical drill replaced the blood roaring in her ears as Kat thought through her options. End the man holding her, kill Martine, or flee. Delaney had mentioned the risks that had come with fighting in the Cyber Apocalypse. 

"Harold and Katherine don't have to see this." 

Her eyes snapped upward to Martine as she smiled wickedly. "If you'd like, I can end Harold first and then take my time with your new team mate over here." She mused. 

"If you even think about laying a hand on him," Kat threatened. "I swear on my mothers grave that I'll kill you with my own two hands." The brunette woman struggled against the man behind her as Martine quizzically rose an eyebrow, taking another step forward and leaning inward to examine her face. 

"I could do so much more then just lay a hand on you two. Neither of you look like fighters. Bet you'll die without so much as a peep." 

Harold silently watched as Kat slammed her head into the man behind her, gunshot ringing as she jammed her heel into his foot and whipped around, snapping his neck with her own hands. Root had taken control of the situation and completely incapacitated Martine, both man and woman falling in a heap on the ground. The gunshot had completely missed her. 

"Well what do you know," Kat muttered. "Went without a peep." The younger woman turned to Greer and raised her hands up to her head. "I surrender." 

Root nodded as she sunk back into the bed, oblivious to the disbelief on Harolds face. He'd known both women were capable, but they took lives as if it were just another thing to do in the time that each day gave them. 

"As do I." 

_Lower Manhattan Savings Bank_

"Time's up!" Dominic announced. "Do we have an agreement or do I send the note and exterminate your men?" Delaney and John both wearily looked over to the man beside them who had yet to answer, his gaze cast on the ground. "Alright then. Send it through the tubes." 

"Okay, _okay!_ You win!" Elias replied. "Just please.. please leave my men alone." 

_A noble act; dying to protect his comrades. Very much like a soldier._

Dominic cleared his throat and knelt down in front of the other Kingpin. "Who is your informant?" He asked.

"He has me send payments to this account. Your money man can verify." A darker skinned woman stepped forward and handed him the same pad of paper from earlier, snatching it back as Elias scribbled on it. 

"You'll be hearing shortly." Dominic muttered, turning away from the three of them and headed to the opposite side of the room with Link on his heels. There was a brief conversation between the two men before Dominic unloaded his clip on Link, killing him instantly. 

Elias burst into laughter at their side. "Oh man, you can't trust anyone nowadays, can you? Now your men won't trust _you!"_ He rasped, struggling to catch his breath back. Dominic clenched his jaw as he motioned to Links body with his weapon. 

"They trust that I will exterminate a rat!" He snapped in response. 

"Rat. I might've lied about a few things." Elias confessed, oblivious to the disappointment that flashed across the faces of the couple beside him. Right now he didn't care about himself. He cared more about keeping John and Delaney alive. 

Delaney screwed her eyes tightly shut and cursed under her breath as she felt John visibly tense behind her. His bold move, lying to the leader of the Brotherhood, was sure to get them all killed. _Recklessness at its finest. "_ Like, for example, the message your men intercepted." 

"You.. you _planted_ that message?!" Dominic roared. "You knew we were coming?" 

"Well good news, there's no rat in your organization! Bad news.. you're going to need a new right hand man." Dominic charged forward and lifted his weapon, rage clearly expressed on his face as he flickered the safety off and aimed for the center of Elias' forehead. "Go ahead, you're going to win this war so you might as well kill me anyway!" 

"You kill him and you'll never get the information you want." John coaxed. "Please tell me you have another plan, Elias." 

Elias smirked and lightly shook his head. ''Sorry John. This is my fight and I told you I'd make them answer for Anthony. So tell me, how does it feel knowing that you're responsible for your friends death?" 

Delaneys jaw dropped as realization hit her harder then a brick. He'd perfected Dominics trick over Anthonys death and used it against him. Manipulation at its finest. 

His face scrunched up as a thousand different responses flickered through his dark eyes, weapon still tightly trained on the enemy Kingpin as they calmly waited for the effect of Elias' choice. 

But he made no move to fire. 

_The Asylum_

"Have you forgotten her so quickly?" Harold asked, his question pointed towards Greer as one of his men drug Martine's body out of the door. "You've already discarded her and you're a human being. Imagine how quickly that thing you have created will discard _you._ Do you ever lay awake at night and wonder if it will see you as a threat? Or worse, as irrelevant?" 

Kat stood idly by, her weapon still tucked into her waistband as she fought off the drugs in her system. Even growing up as a child with a doctor for a father, she'd been hospitalized enough times to know which drug had which effect. They had given her a sedative because they knew she was a cop, and a woman who refused to back down from a fight. 

"How arrogant of you to think that any of us are anything but irrelevant." 

Delaney had briefly told her about the system that Harold had built into the Machine; the threats to National Security versus the common people of New York. She'd been irrelevant since the day she was born. A safe haven baby left on the front steps of a local hospital. Abandoned, unloved, unwanted. It hadn't been until four year old Iris Campbell and her mother had been on their way home from the grocery store whenever she'd noticed the baby on the front steps of their local hospital and immediately asked her mother a question that would change their lives forever. 

" _Mommy, can we adopt her?"_

Kat lifted her head and swallowed the bile threatening to rise in her throat. "I've been irrelevant since the day I was abandoned on the front steps of a local hospital in South Carolina. I made a promise to myself that nobody would ever feel as irrelevant as I did in my childhood years." Her eyes grew dark as both Greer and Harold turned to face her. "So for you to claim that we are all irrelevant shows the truth of who you are beneath the skin. A cruel, conniving, self obsessed arrogant man with absolutely zero regard for humanity. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being."

Every one in the room turned to the screen in front of the hospital bed as bold words flashed in a sequence, almost like a sentence.

_**Willing to exchange lives for location?** _

"Samaritan is offering your Machine a second chance to save the lives of its human agents." Greer replied. "Give up its location, or they die. Offer expires in 60 seconds." 

Kat felt her heartbeat pounding against her sternum as her eyes flickered between Root and Harold. She had yet to meet this Machine they spoke so highly of in person, but what if it was unwilling to give itself up? Did an AI have a heart.. a compassion for the humans that served it?

"Don't do it, please!" Root pleaded, struggling against her restraints as she stared into the camera in the corner by her bedside. "Harold was right, we are interchangeable! You can replace us! _Keep fighting!_ " 

So many things can happen in 60 seconds.

The power flickered off, leaving the group in complete darkness. Kat blinked twice as her vision narrowed in on a screen parallel to her where jumbled letters were beginning to spell out words. 

\-- AN: The bold is the Machine and the italicized bold is Samaritan -- 

**You are wrong, Harold**

**You are not interchangeable**

**I failed to save Sameen**

**I will not fail you now**

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes as Roots voice edged on hysteria. "Don't do it!" She cried. "Don't _die_ for us!" 

_This is us, nearing the end, losing the war we spent so much time trying to win._

**Release them first**

**_One second_ **

**And you will know my location.**

Root and Kat locked eyes as they both stared at the white screen Samaritan was using to communicate. 

**_Release them_ **

In an instant, the lights flickered back on and Greer nodded wistfully to Harold. "Until the next time we meet, Mr. Finch." And just as fast as they captured them, the remaining Decima Agents were gone. Kat rushed forward and undid the restraints around Roots wrists and ankles, throwing her arm around her shoulder and pulling her to her feet. 

_Go home to your loved ones. Hold your daughter tight because a new day is dawning. And those who impede progress, the disruptive and the aberrant will be systematically purged from our society. There will be no mercy, no stay of execution. For some this will be the end, but for others? A rebirth. A second chance to live the life they were designed for. Every life given a purpose, Samaritan will build a new world. A better world._

"The Machine gave up its location to save our lives." Harold uttered, turning to Root who looked as if she were both confused and utterly horrified that it had come to this. 

"They're going to kill her Harold."

A squad of black SUVS sped past them and down the main road of the Asylum before vanishing through the treeline and out of sight. "Do you know where they're going, Root?" Kat asked, pulling her hat from the pocket of her coat and tucking it over her ears. 

"No. But we have to get there first." 

_Before it's too late._


	56. Welcome To The Machine

_Lower Manhattan Savings Bank_

"Time to make a deal, Detective Riley." Sunlight was just beginning to peek through the windows of the basement as Dominic approached Delaney and John, both of which had been medicated and patched up for their injuries. "Elias' era is over. New world order. I want the same arrangement he had. Your friend Harold is going to be my inside man. I want the keys to the city." 

Delaney snorted and shook her head, the gentle jab of Johns thumb into the back of her shoulder silencing her sarcastic comeback. "There are no keys." He replied calmly. "No arrangements." 

Dominic hauled her upward in an instant, immediately setting John on edge as he tightened his arm around her neck in a vice like manner. "Do you think I'm stupid? I know what your weak point is." He taunted. John met her dark gaze as he cleared his throat. 

"No. You're just smart enough to get yourself killed." 

Dominic turned to the dark skinned woman beside him. "Go get Detective Fusco and put a bullet in his head." His head swiveled back around to face both Delaney and John. "When we're done with him, we put a bullet into the wife." Delaneys head snapped up from where it rested against John, who had become incredibly tense with the impending threat. 

" _Not as long as I'm sitting here."_

There was an elongated moment of silence before the same woman who'd gone to retrieve Fusco came back into a room full of people, tossing empty handcuffs and watching as they slid in the direction of Elias. "Detective's gone." She snapped. "Somebody sprung him." All eyes fell onto Harper Rose who stood in the corner with her hands on her hips. 

"Why would I help some cop?" She retorted in response. 

"Cause that's your game. You play both sides of the fence. Just like you did with us," Dominic surged forward and wrenched her hand away form her back pocket, her hidden knife clattering to the ground as she fell beside it. "And the Cartel. Didn't think I'd really trust you, did you?" He escorted Harper across the room and shoved him into the chair, hands now bound by zip ties. "I came to get answers and the only thing we're leaving is bodies. Lock down all the exits and _find_ Detective Fusco! Shoot him on sight!" 

_Root and Harold_

"It's best for you to head back to your day job, Kat." Root remarked as the young brunette followed her and Harold through Manhattan. "We're still unsure of what's coming. I'll be sure to fill you in when we know something." Kat nodded and jogged towards the main road with her hand extended to flag down a taxi cab. "She's talking to me again Harry." 

"Surely the Machine isn't hiding itself in a high end apartment building." Finch remarked, following Root into the main lobby of the apartment building they'd entered. 

"She led us here for a reason. We just have to do what she says when she says it." 

"Easy for you to say. You're the one she says everything to." 

Root smirked as she easily swiped the elevator keys from the firefighter in the main hallway. She led Harold down the hall to the main elevators and inserted the key into the lock that accessed them. "See Harry? The Machine has a plan." Their elevator ride brought them into the entrance of the Penthouse. Root immediately sprung into action and capped the two men in front of her, stepping over their bodies and snatching the pair of night vision goggles from the man sitting on the sofa. "Sold. We'll take them." Her eyes flickered back up to a silent Harold. "Got what we came for!" 

The two of them made their way back into the elevator only to find that somebody on the first floor had disabled the override. "We have to hack the elevator and reprogram the controls!" Harold persisted. Root flashed him a skeptical look.

"There's no time." Her eyes flickered up to the blinking security camera in the corner. "No more standing on the side lines. You want us to save your skin? Then _get in the game!_ " Her smile widened as the Machine processed her demand, rewriting the core controls of the elevator and slowly delivering them to the first floor. "Get ready Harry. I have a feeling this won't be our first wild ride today!" 

_ Lower Manhattan Savings Bank _

Delaney shifted her weight against John, boredom flashing across her face as the two of them watched Dominic spill out the box of cellphones he'd confiscated earlier. "Huh, what do we have here?" He chided, picking up both of their phones and gazing at their cloning device Harold had installed when working the numbers. "Phones connected to _my_ mesh network." 

"Nothing in this god forsaken city is yours." Delaney snarled, eyes narrowing as she glared at the Kingpin. "You're just like everyone else. You think it is but in reality-" A sharp gasp broke past her lips as Dominic lunged forward and brought his hand across her face so hard that blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Johns nostrils flared with anger as she tilted her head upward and spat out the blood that had gathered beneath her tongue. "Mm. That the worst you got?" 

"Detective Riley and Company commandeered it for themselves. So I'd say you owe me a pretty big favor." 

As the two of them stared one another down, the dark skinned girl jogged back into the room with an automatic assault rifle slung over her shoulder and panic visible in her eyes. "We got a soldier down in the south exit, no radio response. I'd say we gotta move out now." 

Elias gently clucked his tongue. "Now that's quite a dilemma. Stay and be caught or leave empty handed." Dominic immediately pursed his lips and turned to John with his phone extended in his hand. 

"Unlock it or _all_ of their lives are on you. Don't want to watch me bash your wives brains in, do you?" He taunted, to which John clenched his jaw and eyed her through his peripheral vision. "I won't ask again. Don't think I'm afraid to take Mrs. Riley away from you." 

His finger wrapped around the phone, pulling it away from Dominics hand and entering his pass-code manually. Delaney gulped as she realized that it was her phone John had unlocked instead, her caller ID for _Harold_ flashing across the screen. 

_Hope he's prepared for the end of all we know._

_ Root and Harold _

Harold gasped as Delaneys name appeared on the main screen of his phone. "Mrs. Reese! What a relief to finally hear-"

The voice on the other end of the line sent shivers down his spine. " _Mrs. Reese?_ I should've known these two would use a fake name. It's nice to meet you Harold. Can't wait until we start working together." 

"I'm only going to ask you this once. Where are John and Delaney?" 

"Don't worry about those two. As long as you cooperate, they get to keep breathing. We'll send you a new location. Be there in fifteen. _Alone._ " Harold swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat and disconnected the call before sliding his phone back into the front pocket of his coat. 

"The Machine will have to wait. I have to help John and Delaney." 

"Harold, The Machine is the priority here." Root warned, cunning hazel eyes inches away from his own. 

"No. People are the priority here." Harold shot back in retaliation. "The Machines only reason for existing is to save them. Don't you remember that it saved both Delaney _and_ John? I'm not going to sacrifice those two for an AI who on its best days is cryptic and withholding, and on its worst? Borderline homicidal!" 

"She's not perfect, Harold. But she's the only chance we've got." 

Harold pursed his lips and bowed his head to his chest. "We already let Sameen slip away." He said quietly, oblivious to the shining of tears in Roots eyes. "So now we're supposed to let John and Delaney go too?"

"I don't want to sacrifice Sameen either, but if The Machine dies? The world we'll wake up in tomorrow is one that none of us wants to see!" Root exclaimed. "She needs John and Del alive just as much as we do. She won't let them down. I promise." 

_ Lower Manhattan Savings Bank _

"Well, looks like we found our Harold. Which means _you,_ " Dominic jabbed a thumb at Harper. "Are no longer needed. Nor you." His gaze slowly shifted to Elias before he turned to the crew that had gathered behind them. "Put them down and let's get out of here. Mr. and Mrs. Reese come with us." 

The smirk on Delaneys face widened as the familiar sound of a fax machine blared through the air. John slowly shifted his gaze downward so the two of them could meet eyes, a silent understanding expressed between the two of them as the dark skinned woman began to read off of the piece of paper inside the machine. 

"Sharp right leg, left knee ACL, tactical blade, glass jaw." 

Delaney rolled to the side as John broke free of his restraints, sliding the knife in her direction before he followed The Machines instructions in taking down the man in front of him with ease. Wide eyes landed on the pair as they simultaneously tapped their ear pieces. 

_Can you hear me?_

The venomous smirk on her face grew as John flexed his fingers. "Loud and clear!" She exclaimed, eyes wide as their AI fed her directions for John to fire through the earpiece. "10 o clock, 3 o clock, 1 o clock!" Multiple gunshots rang out as John capped the remainder of Dominics crew, only for them both to find that the Kingpin had vanished in the midst of the fire fight. "It looks like our little friend ran away." 

John tossed the gun to the side as Fusco and Kat appeared at the top of the stairs followed by half a dozen other NYPD cops. "Good for him because he's probably locked up in custody." John replied, turning to face her with a look of concern as his brow furrowed. She was wearing a blood stained white teeshirt with her hair pulled into a makeshift ponytail, her leather jacket long discarded and her eyes red from exhaustion. "You look like crap." 

"Same goes to you." She replied, grinning as he snorted quietly underneath his breath. "I may be a veteran war medic but I can tell you that my skills at stitching myself up are next to zero. Wanna give it a try?" Her gaze turned innocent as red spread across Johns face before he eagerly nodded, giving into her demands. "Good. I have backup supplies at the Precinct." 

John lightly gripped her hand as Kat lead her out the door, removing his coat to drape it around her shoulders. The four of them watched as the ESU escorted Dominic and Elias into a black 15 passenger van in handcuffs and forcing them into the middle passenger seat. 

"Take care of yourself, John. Take care of that wife of yours. _She's a keeper."_ Elias stated, managing a firm nod as the doors slid closed. Delaney turned as Kat tapped her shoulder and held up the familiar brown leather satchel she always kept in the side drawer of her desk along with a clean grey Under Armour shirt she kept in her locker. 

The brunette gaped in disbelief. "We haven't even known each other that long and I'm already wondering what I'd ever do without you!" She exclaimed, grinning widely as she dropped the supplies and enveloped Kat in a warm embrace. John couldn't help the smile that spread across his face at the sudden outburst of abnormal sentimentality exuding from his wife - almost similar to the peace she used to speak so highly about. 

"You'd probably fall apart without me here. But then again.. maybe someone needs to look out for you." Kats crystal blue eyes shifted up to John as she cleared her throat and extended a hand in farewell. "For both of you." 

***

"Man, you would think with your precise aim that your hands wouldn't be so-" Delaney winced as John threaded the needle through her skin and finished off the stitches, pulling out the gauze pads from the inside of her satchel. " _Shaky._ Geesh. It's just me. Care to be a little more sensitive?" 

John rose an eyebrow as his eyes fell onto the straps of her tanktop, his fingers slowly working them down the curve of her shoulder as he kissed her skin. A shudder ran down her spine as his opposite hand worked its way to curving around the frame of her hip as he gently pulled her to her feet. "We don't have the luxury of being sensitive right now, darling. Harold needs us." He whispered, gently ghosting his lips over her own as she melted into his kiss. "Pull on your shirt, get your spare jacket from your locker and meet me outside the Precinct." 

Delaney jogged into the hallway and nearly slammed into Iris and Kat, who was fuming as Iris silently berated her. For what.. she had no idea. But as she walked past the two sisters she made no move to interrupt their fighting as she snagged the jacket from her locker and made her way back out into the morning to find John. 

He was sitting in their car waiting for her, seemingly pondering the cataclysmic events to take place as his fingers drummed against the wheel. She'd seen that look on his face a thousand times. He was worried; whether or not it was about Harold, or about her, or the fate of the world.. John Reese was absolutely terrified of what was to come. 

"Hey." She whispered, resting her hand on top of his own as he stuck the keys into the ignition. "This may not be a war we can win, but if we do succeed, it guarantees people like us a better tomorrow. That's all we really need is a guarantee of a tomorrow." 

They pulled up in front of a vacant building in Brooklyn, parking the car in the shadows and exiting it together. Delaney opened the trunk and grinned widely at the rifle she'd snagged from the station; a gift from Kat upon cracking their first case together. Slinging it over her shoulder, she pulled her hair into a tight ponytail and wiped the excess makeup from underneath her eyes before following John to the building. 

"Heard you guys could use some help." 

_Breathe._

Harold eyed the pair in amazement as he studied them; His eyes flickering to Delaneys injured shoulder along with the sling that John wore, and the weapons they'd both brought with them. "Del." He breathed in awe. "John. I am so relieved to see both of you!" Her heart lifted at the grin that spread across Roots face as the four of them moved to enter the building. 

"See? The Machine is taking care of the four of us. Now we have to return the favor." 

_Just breathe._

The delivery man on the stoop narrowed his eyes on the packing slip before he turned his attention to the four of them. "Harold?" He questioned. "Harold.. Admin?" Delaney pressed her lips tightly together to keep herself from snickering at the choice of last name.

Root and Harold glanced at each other wide eyed before the older man bound up the steps. "That would be me!" He exclaimed. 

" _Sweet._ I thought I was going to have to take these back to the truck." He sighed in relief as he held up a digital pad. "Sign here. Fifteen laptops, huh? Some sort of startup?" 

"Trying to avoid a shutdown actually." Root replied, gripping the bags of ice with tight fingers as Harold pushed his way into the building with John hot on his heels. "Let's get the ice in before it melts!" 

Delaney opened her mouth to reply when the sudden screech of SUV tires filled the air, two black SUVS skidding to a stop in front of the building. "Harry!" She shouted, pushing him behind her as Root held up her rifle in defense. "Get inside!" 

"Del! Get up on higher ground and _use that rifle!_ " John exclaimed sharply, his image cut off as the main doors unlocked and the four of them rushed into the building. Root and Harold immediately set to work as John and Delaney bound up the staircase, Delaney taking the higher stoop as John casually leaned against the window to survey the perimeter. "I've made a dozen bogeys. I'm guessing more of them are on their way." His cerulean eyes seemed similar to the sky behind an expanse of galaxy as he met hers in the dark. "How's the shoulder?" 

She cocked the hammer on the rifle Kat had given her and pressed the stock into her shoulder. "As good as it's going to get right now." Delaney replied, her voice grave as she peered through the front sight at the Samaritan agents that now littered the street. "I can take out most of them with ease, but I'm not sure I have the ammo to do them all." 

"You be my backup from in here, okay?" John asked. "I'd much rather have you in here then out there. It'll make me feel better." She opened her mouth to respond but as she saw the look on Johns face, immediately sunk into the wall and gave the best nod she could. "We can't hold off an entire army. Laptops and ice aren't going to help. We need to find The Machine!" 

"That may prove impossible. This is one of any number of substations in the city devoted to the distribution of electricity across the southern half of New York." Harold replied. "The Machine can't be here because there's simply not enough _room._ " 

"If The Machine's not here," Delaney asked, her voice faltering as confusion passed over her face. "Then why are we?"

"That's what we have to find out." Harold paused briefly before he cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck as a thought dawned upon him. "Delaney, look out your window. Do you see any boxes?" 

Delaney peered through the blinds and nodded quickly. "I see one. It's marked with a.. with a T. Why?" 

"I believe I was mistaken." Harold whispered in awe. "The Machine _is_ here. It's here because it's everywhere." 

_"_ But Finch.. is the Machine is everywhere, then how on Earth do we save it?" John asked urgently. The ex-veteran swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he lifted his eyes to the top of the staircase where his wife was knelt down, focusing on the eradicated, unevenness of her breaths as she stared down the sight of her rifle. 

"That's what we're here to figure out." 

***

Hardened, war-trodden eyes stared out into the deep and lovely dark. For once in her life, she wasn't afraid of what was in front of her. That was what war did to you. It tore you apart piece by piece until you were immune to the horrors that came with it. So much blood.. so much tragedy... so much _grief._

But your mistakes, your tragedies and your crises, they don't define you. 

Delaney Anne Reese knelt down in front of the window adjoined to the staircase she and her husband John had been occupying, steady hands wrapped around her rifle as she prepared to unload every single bullet into the men that occupied the street. The men who worked for the enemy, an enemy so self absorbed and arrogant that it wanted to ruin not just their lives, but the lives of the innocent. 

And after watching so many innocents be snatched away from her, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that all four of her family members walked out of that electrical station. Hearts beating, chests moving, blood pumping. 

After intently listening to their plan that would either save or destroy the Machine, Delaney stood in front of three of the people who meant the world to her and lost herself in the cause. "I'm sorry Mr. Reese, I know I was up front about the risks-" He interjected, only to be cut off by both John and Del. 

"Forget about it Harold. There's no place I'd rather be." 

She managed the strongest smile she could despite the fear coursing through her veins. "Same goes for me. If I'm going to die, at least I'm dying for one of the things that saved my life." She turned on her heel and jogged after John, blocking out the pain in her shoulder as they gazed at one another from the staircase. "I feel like I'm falling into hell, John. Teetering on the edge of the abyss until my fingers grow too weak and I just.." Her voice faltered as her eyelids gently fluttered shut. " _Disappear."_

It was the gentleness of his fingers dancing against her jaw that pulled her back into reality. "You don't know this yet, but there is something so beautiful that comes after the dark. After the moon sets and the sun rises.. sweetheart, there is _light._ " 

John took sixty seconds to gaze over the woman he'd fallen in love with -- the fearless, humble, compassionate, driven woman who had given up everything to be here with him, to be fighting a war that there was no guarantee they would even win. He was so proud of the person she'd become. 

In a moments notice, gunfire rang out from the top floor of the electrical station where Samaritan agents had broken in through the back door, leaving Delaney no choice but to cap them so they wouldn't kill Finch and Root. Finger squeezing the trigger multiple times, she made no pained expression as each Samaritan soldier fell. 

Tapping the inside of her earpiece, Delaney had only heard the end of their conversation as John stepped out of the building and into the night air, just barely visible from the window she sat in front of. Growling at the slack of visibility from the smoke grenades he had fired, she swallowed the lump growing in her throat and spoke. "Can you hear me?" 

_**Yes** _

"Good. I need you to give me directions on where to fire so I can save my husband." 

As The Machine fed her directions, Delaney found herself thinking back on a previous conversation she'd had with Sameen during one of their training lessons in the gym they used to attend so frequently. 

_"You wanna know why I've always poked fun at you? It's because you're so.." Sameen Shaw flailed her hands in her partners direction as the two of them jumped around one another on the mat. Her skin was slick with sweat and her hands cramping from the wraps around them as she struggled to formulate a sentence. "Tuned into your emotions. Gotta be honest, it's weird."_

_"What do you mean?"_

Aim, fire, reload. Aim, fire, reload. 

" _I've met a-lot of people and I've killed a-lot of people. None of them have turned out to be like you." Delaney tilted her head in confusion as Shaw huffed out of annoyance. "Okay, look. I'm going to give you an event from your life and I want you to tell me the first emotion that pops into your head whenever you think about it. Got it?"_

_"Got it." She replied, ducking underneath her arm and whipping around on her heel before Shaw could throw another punch._

_"The first time you met John whenever you served together."_

_Immediately the response came flying out of her mouth. "Joy."_

A scream broke past her lips as one of the Samaritan soldiers inside of the building threw a flash grenade into the center of the room, forcing her to her knees as her ears began to ring. That's all there was - panicked yelling and bursts of gunfire as Delaney slowly rose to her feet. 

\-- **Start listening to Welcome To The Machine here --**

**_"_ ** _The day you went on that op in London and realized there was a good possibility that you'd never see the man you'd fallen in love with again."_

_"Sorrow."_

A sharp pain dug into her arm as Delaney whipped around and bolted down the staircase, narrowly ducking behind the machine where Root and Harold were hiding. The other brunette woman managed a meek smile as she moved past her to cover Harold from the gunfire. 

Harold was bent over one of the laptops. head bowed to his chest as he watched words jumble across the screen. "We haven't failed yet! You have an impossible challenge, one that I never programmed you for." Her eyes flickered over her shoulder just in time to see a sentence spoken by the AI that nearly made her heart stop.

Because it sounded exactly like something she'd said to John after her torture with Vigilance - If you think I've lost my way, then maybe I should die.

_"The night that you lost McKenna in London."_

_"Anger. Bitterness. Hatred," Her voice broke off as her eyes gently fluttered shut. "Grief." Shaw pursed her lips as she thought of another significant event that Delaney had spoken about in the amount of time that they had known one another._

_"All the times you'd tried to drink yourself to death because you'd thought you'd lost everything. Your family thought you were dead, you'd given up your career and John, your best friend risked her life for you, and all for what? For you to keep breathing?" Her eyes snapped open as Delaney threw her fist so hard into Shaws stomach that the ex-assassin doubled over, clutching her stomach before she was sent onto her back, knee pinned into her chest._

_"That's exactly right. They all did it for me to keep breathing despite the fact that none of them know the pain it caused me in the end."_

"No, I can't let you die!" Harold snapped, slamming his hands against the desk as sparks began to surge through the row of laptops scattered on the desk. 

"Power is surging across the city- _It's coming for the Machine!_ " Root cried, both women surging forward as Harold gripped the case, gasping as he was thrown backwards and onto the floor. "Harold, no!" 

_"_ _That's just it." Shaw breathed as Delaney removed herself from her, legs trembling before they gave out on the mat. "You've had so many things happen to you in your thirty some years of life that when a tragedy comes.. you're almost guaranteed to be done for. You'll sink into yourself until there's nothing left and you're just there. Living inside a shell of the woman you were."_

_"What's your point, Shaw?" Delaney snapped, unwrapping the gauze from around her hands and piling it beside her legs._

_"You are so in tune with everything that's going on around you, so in tune with your emotions, that the switch to actually turn them off never gets flipped." The ghost of a smirk quirked the corners of her lips upward as Sameen leaned forward on her knees and slowly tilted her head to the side. "So what do you have to do, Del? You've gotta learn how to turn them off."_

Harold slowly sat up at the waist with both Delaney and Roots help. "Ow," He whined, his voice hoarse. "That hurt." 

Emotions don't work in a world that isn't their own. There is only one priority now above everything else. _Keep her family alive._

"Did it work Harold?" Finch rushed to his feet and gripped the lid of the briefcase as the tiny blue light in the corner flashed to life. 

"Yes.. yes, I think so." The three of them stood to their feet as Delaney led them out of the building and onto the staircase where she began to feverishly search for John. "John? John!"

John Reese stood to his feet from behind the SUV and managed a weak grimace as he clutched his weapon to his side. "I think you owe me a few more years on my pension, Harold." He mused. "Break it to me. What's our status?" Root sighed deeply and reached into the pockets of her coat.

"Well, one and a half clips, a metro card, and God's either dead-" Her gaze flickered back to the briefcase that Finch was clutching desperately against his chest. "Or running on double A's." 

Harold cleared his throat as Delaney shifted her weight beside him, her legs spread shoulder length apart as she discarded her empty clip for a full one just as the familiar screech of SUV tires rang in the air. He had half expected to hear the pounding of her heart or see a tremble in her hands - but there was nothing to show that what was happening in front of her terrified her. "You always did like a challenge, Mr. Reese." He replied.

The past version of her - the one that had saved lives - would've berated the current version of her for taking these peoples lives away from them. But just as Sameen Shaw had taught her, she flipped the switch and became the machine they needed in order to stay alive. 

This was Samaritans world now. 

_And they were just living in it._


	57. A Samaritan World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's their world now.   
> We're just living in it.

Running. That's all it was now. Running until your lungs give out. Running until your knees are so weak they can no longer hold your weight. Running because there is simply no other choice. Your life, _their lives_ , depend on it. 

_If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of us is the sound of my voice. I don't know if any of us made it. Did we win? Did we lose? I'm not even sure I would know what victory would mean anymore. But either way, it's over. So let me tell you who we were. Let me tell you who you are. And how we fought back._

She and John had split off up over a hour ago - mutually agreeing to give him the actual briefcase containing the remains of the Machine while she ran off with a decoy, hoping to draw them away from him. They had agreed to meet at the ferry the following morning, leaving all four of them on their own and running from Samaritan agents the entire night. 

Her rifle was long discarded, only depending on the minimal amount of bullets she'd snagged, her worn leather jacket that she'd always kept hidden in her locker at the Precinct, and the small amount of faith she still had left. She'd only run into one Samaritan agent rifling through the alleys around three that morning, spattering her face with blood as she fired into his heart and ran before anyone could catch her. 

Wiping at her face with a clean cloth, Delaney quickly mingled with the crowd overwhelming the docks, her eyes peeled for Johns muscular figure. When she caught sight of his salt and pepper hair, she'd broken into a run to catch up with him, but not before the Samaritan agent got to him first. 

"Put it down." He demanded, motioning to the case with his weapon. " _Gently."_

A small gasp of surprise broke past her lips as Delaney yanked her weapon from her waistband, sprinting down the remainder of the docks. The other man was straddling Johns waist with his hands wrapped around his throat completely prepared to suffocate him. 

Lunging forward she slammed the butt of her weapon into his head, she rose her middle finger at Johns attacker before turning her attention to John himself. "It's about time," He rasped, taking her hand as he stood to his feet. Delaney immediately cursed under her breath as he peeled her hair away from her face only to find a jagged wound in the shape of a bolt on her temple. "Who did that to you?" 

"Scattered Samaritan operative. He was in the alleyway I hid in, so I took him out. Done deal." Her ears perked upward as they simultaneously turned around to find Finch staring back at them with The Machines briefcase clutched tightly to his chest. He had somehow changed his suit into a crisp white suit with matching hat - his glasses tightly perched against his nose as he stared at his partners.

"Is The Machine okay?" John asked.

"The Subway. We've got to get back to the subway." Harold repeated. Delaney grimaced as she pulled her hair out of its unkempt ponytail and grimaced at the blood and dirt that was caked into the thick roots.

"Great minds think alike. There are cameras all over the city. We've gotta get on that ferry. C'mon!" John and Delaney simultaneously rushed forward to step onto the boat that would guarantee them safer passage back to the Subway, until Delaney noticed that Harold was standing at the entrance of the ramp that lead into the ferry. 

"Harold?" Delaney questioned, her voice laced with concern as she yanked herself out of Johns grasps and rushed back down the ramp. "I know what you're thinking, but if you don't get on this boat, it's a guaranteed death sentence. So trust _me_ for once, and take my hand." 

There was a vacant expression in his eyes she hadn't seen in quite some time - incredibly similar to the first time he'd brought up the topic of Nathan Ingram and his faked death to keep the woman he loved safe. 

Once Delaney had finally coaxed him into getting on the boat, they both noticed the repetitive blinking from the power source light on the briefcase. "Mr. Reese," Harold murmured, running his fingers over the lid. "The Machine.. It's losing power." 

John led them to the back of the ferry where he finally succumbed to his exhaustion and slumped against the wall. "This was the only way for us to get back to the Subway. I'm not particularly fond of them but we simply had no other choice." Delaney winced as she brought her fingers to the center of her forehead where a splitting headache was beginning to form. _You can't - You can't put the focus on yourself._

But despite everything she tried, she was absolutely exhausted, and John was the only one who noticed it. 

"There will be Samaritan operatives on the side." Harold said quietly. "We're living in a Samaritan world now." Just the thought of a free society run by a rogue AI with a god complex and a vengeful wrath made her stomach clench and bile rise in her throat. 

"What-" Delaney lifted her head and swallowed thickly. "What are we dealing with here, Finch?" 

"Uncharted waters, Mrs. Reese! It's _everywhere._ Pervasive surveillance misinformation propaganda and they can activate almost anyone." All three pairs of eyes fell onto the briefcase before John was the next one to ask the question that was rolling around in his head. 

"Give it to us straight. What's the damage?" 

"The red light means that the battery was most likely damaged." 

John furrowed his brow out of confusion. "I thought this case was indestructible!" He exclaimed. 

"Case maybe, but the brain inside it can only take so much blunt force trauma unlike us." Harold replied matter-of-factly. Johns body tensed whenever he felt a gentle drop onto his shoulder, glancing through his peripheral vision to see that his wife had dozed off in the middle of their conversation. 

"Lucky thing she got there when she did, but I'm sorry I was short on _kevlar._ " John retorted much to Finchs displeasure. The ex-billionaires eyes filled with concern as he pulled her fully into his arms and rested his palm against her head. "The cut she got isn't too bad, but I'd go as far to say that's she probably dehydrated and the lack of sleep doesn't help matters." 

"I don't think you get how drastic this really is, Mr. Reese! Damage to one single component of The Machine in its compressed state would equal terabytes of lost data. Irretrievable. Irreparable. It's running on the lithium ion backup but if that light starts blinking, we are in big trouble. Our best hope is to get back to the Subway and stabilize it but even then, I'm not sure I can fix the battery! Much less decompress The Machine. It would take vast amounts of processing power which I don't currently have available." 

John wrapped his arms around Delaneys waist to hold her in place as she slept, bowing his head to her shoulder in order to meet the fearful gaze of a man he'd come to respect so highly. "Don't worry." He reassured. "We'll find Root, she'll help you get it back up and running. Then we'll get Shaw back and start working the numbers again." 

"Mr. Reese, we don't even know if The Machine that comes out will be the same one that went in! It might be mortally wounded." Harold snapped in retaliation. Shivers ran down Johns spine at the thought of losing one of the two things that gave him purpose - the AI that had saved him from falling into an endless pit and reunited him with the only woman insane enough to love him as much as he loved her. 

But he had a job, and he was going to finish it.

"You don't know that. We'll fix it. We _have_ to, Finch. The world needs your machine now more then ever." John pressed. 

"You're not the first person to try and tell me that, Mr. Reese. And had I known what we'd be up against now, I might have done things differently!" 

_Small Time Skip_

When she finally began to come to, Harold was standing over her with a cool cloth as she stirred in Roots bedroom, her muscles aching and her eyes squinting against the light from the lamp on the bedside table. "Good, you're awake." He murmured, resting the cold cloth against her forehead. "It's been a couple of hours since you fell asleep. What do you remember?" 

Delaney made no effort to move as Harold tilted a bottle of water into the curve of her lips, smirking as she took several sips before sinking back into the mattress. "Rescuing John from that Samaritan douchebag, and then falling asleep in the middle of an argument on the ferry." She replied weakly. "Sorry I don't have as much endurance as he does. That was one thing I didn't pick up from the military." 

"You don't give yourself enough credit. You are equally as strong as John, both physically and emotionally. I was just.. surprised whenever he nearly carried you all the way through Chinatown from the ferry. Also surprised you didn't wake up - considering you were slung over his shoulder." Harold said, standing to his feet as Delaney glanced around the unfamiliar room. "He's worried sick about you." 

"How long have I been asleep? And where did John go?" 

Harold pursed his lips as he considered Johns orders to not let his wife out of bed - extending his hand for her to take it so he could explain what had happened while she was asleep. There had been an accident while transporting Dominic and Elias to federal custody which had gotten them both killed in the process, and nearly Fusco as well who had narrowly escaped with his life. He and John had assigned Kat to look over Lionel and make sure that he didn't spill his conspiracy theory to anyone else that wasn't aware of the war going on between The Machine and Samaritan. 

John had left to retrieve Root over an hour ago, leaving nothing but his word of return and his Hebrew ring on her bedside table. "He was quite persistent about venturing back out into the open to bring Root back to us. I tried to convince him not to, but John is John." Harold said, helping her sit down in Bears bed due to the lack of chairs in the Subway. The Belgian Malinois whined as he laid beside her with his head tucked into her lap, concerned brown eyes gazing back up at her. "I'm going to finish working on The Machine, okay? Eat the food that Kat brought you." 

Delaney sulked as Harold nudged a bag of Chinese food in her direction before ambling off towards his desk. She stared into the paper bag before pulling out the take-out box of General Tsos and sighing in relief as the meat rested against her tongue. It had been days since she'd last eaten a substantial meal, or rested for that matter. Ever since John had gone into the mountains and nearly died in the process she had been awake nearly every night, plagued by nightmares and anxiety. 

She was _so_ tired. 

Her eyebrows furrowed as confusion filled her expression, her jaw tightening as Bear began to bark furiously. Exhausted brown eyes flickered to an equally desperate Harold who was struggling to unplug the chords connecting The Machine to the powerhouse. "No, no _stop!_ " He exclaimed, gasping as sparks flew from the plugs and threw him backwards in the process, knocking him unconscious against the floor as his head collided with a wooden box. 

"Harry!" Delaney cried out, wincing as she slowly stood to her feet. The brunette took slow deliberate steps towards her brother with her fingernails digging into her palm, every step painful with each movement of her feet. Her eyes lit up with an amber glow as The Machine burst into flames, the shadows dancing against the bricks of the Subway. "C'mon Harold, you've gotta wake up. I can't stand much more of this." 

Harold groaned as his eyes slowly fluttered open, the smell of smoke and charred rubber filling his nose as he recognized Delaneys swaying form knelt beside him. "Del? You shouldn't have moved!" He snapped, slipping his glasses back onto his nose and rising to his feet. When she moved to help him Harold immediately whipped back around and gently shoved her to the floor. "Delaney Reese, _do not move_." 

He set to extinguishing the flames as quickly as possible - sighing in relief as The Subway was once again encased in darkness. Finch bent over his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger; a clear indication of the defeat that he was now facing head on. The inside of the case had been burned to the core, leaving them no way to fix what had been left of The Machine. 

"D-Did we lose her Harry?" Delaney asked quietly, rubbing at her bleary eyes as she rested her chin on the top of her knees. 

"I believe we lost her, Del." 

There was nothing worst then total resignation to what you'd had so much faith in restoring - the one thing that saved them was now incapable of being saved. 

_Or was it?_

_***_

John immediately rushed into the Subway at the sight of Delaney and Harold sitting close together by his desk, her form nearly recognizable as she was curled up on the floor with her head resting against Bear and Harold was motionless at his desk. "Harold, what happened?" Root asked. 

"I failed. I never gave it a chance.. If I had never crippled The Machine from the start, it might've stood a chance against Samaritan." Harold replied, oblivious to John tending to his wife behind him. Delaney stirred at the feeling of fingertips dancing across her jaw, opening her eyes just the slightest to see John staring back down at her. He wrapped his arms beneath her legs and hoisted her to her feet, pressing a kiss against her forehead as she immediately fell asleep in his warm embrace. 

"What about the RAM chips? Have they lost all their data?" 

"The battery is dead, it has no power source." 

"There could be a residual charge in the lithium ion backup." Root suggested, to which Harold immediately shook his head. Despite the obvious truth placed before them, the analog interface still had an overwhelming amount of hope in the AI who had given her a purpose. 

"If there was, I fried it." Harold said quietly. 

"C'mon Finch." John spoke as Harold turned towards him, regarding the sleeping woman in his arms before allowing himself to look his long time partner in the eyes. "There's gotta be a way to resuscitate it."

"Mr. Reese, even if there were battery power left we don't have enough processing power to completely decompress The Machine. We would need a-" 

" _A super computer."_ Root whispered.

"Exactly, Miss Groves!" Harold exclaimed as John rushed down the hall and gently laid Delaney in Roots bed before disappearing entirely as if he'd gone to retrieve something. "And down here, that's going to be difficult to come by!" 

"Nearly impossible even above ground. So we're going to have to build one of our own!" Harold gaped at her in disbelief as John reentered the room with a Play Station 3 console tucked in his hands. 

"Build a super computer? With _what?_ " 

The ex-CIA agent gently rested the console against the desk that held Harolds work station, shrugging his shoulders in response as the once billionaire looked at him with complete and utter disbelief in his expression, almost as if it were offensive to rejuvenate The Machine with gaming consoles. "Are you serious?" 

"Deadly. But we're going to need to crank the AC because it's going to get hotter then Hades down here." Root replied, glancing back into her bedroom where Delaney was curled into the mattress. "Our sleep deprived Sleeping Beauty probably should be woken for this. She'll get super cranky if she wakes up covered in sweat." 

John poked his head out of the Subway car and vigorously shook his head. "That woman is the heaviest sleeper I've ever met, and if she's going to sleep, she should do it now. I'll wake her whenever we've succeeded." 

With the three of them working inside of the Subway car to kick start The Machine back to life, Delaney Reese slept peacefully for the first time in days, and it was all due to the dream playing behind her eyelids. 

_"Hey Del, I don't have a ton of time." Mckenna Burns pressed, emerging from the field of wildflowers that had been the setting of her dreams whenever she'd first fallen asleep. The sun was high above them in a sky with zero clouds, blaring down onto the two women as Delaney Reese smoothed out her lavender sundress. There was childrens' laughter somewhere in the meadow and the sweet smell of honeysuckle floating through the breeze as it swept over the lake to her right. "I already made my goodbyes to John, and I thought it was high time I did it for you."_

_"Can you tell me where I am?" She whispered, lifting her brown eyes to meet the familiar emerald in front of her as a sudden weight registered in her lap. Delaney swiveled her head and gazed downward only to find Johns sleeping form reclined with his head in her lap, arms limp by his sides as he soaked in the sunlight. "Is this my-"_

_"Future? I'd say it is. You dream about the future more then just about anyone else I know." Mckenna retorted, running a hand through her blonde hair as she sat beside her best friend. "I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. I know that I was never really real, but you were so desperate for someone who understood the insanity that you live in that you conjured up an image of me that followed you everywhere. And then after your torture with Vigilance, you started to rely more on the people that had become your family, an integral part of your life. That's why you stopped seeing me.. because you didn't really need me anymore. You have Harold and John, Root and Shaw and Kat."_

_"But-" Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she tilted her head upward, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself from crying. "We lost Sameen at the Stock Exchange. She's gone."_

_Mckenna lightly shook her head as she plucked a wildflower and tucked it into her mirage of golden locks. "Your dear Sameen isn't dead, Delaney. She's far from it. You'll be seeing her again soon enough." She replied. "My point in all of this sentimentality is that I never expected you to become the woman you are. I thought you were done for after Vigilance, but you didn't let that define you. You learned from it. You were even blood thirsty for revenge - and you never acted on that either. Why?"_

_Her eyes once again shifted back to Johns form in her lap. "I was a healer back before my life became insanity. I saved people when I was up to my elbows in blood and dismembered limbs. I was the best freaking medic in our brigade, not to mention I saved the life of my husband more then once." A sad smile quirked her lips upward as she and Mckenna met eyes. "I wanted so badly to give that up, but why should I? That's what made me unique, my intense compassion and love for people, for humanity. I have a legacy to fulfill, after all."_

_Delaney took that moment to cherish her best friend one final time - her gaze flickering up and down as McKenna rested her chin on her knees and stared out into the country side._

_"Del?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_The blonde woman's eyes glistened with tears as she wrapped her arms around Delaneys waist from the side. "I'm so glad I made that promise. I love you, sister."_

_"Me too." Delaney whispered, afraid that if she spoke any louder that all of this - her beautiful dreams - would vanish. "I'm going to be okay, McKenna. You can finally be at peace. Dance in heaven and let everyone know your name for me."_

When she finally opened her eyes, John and Root were standing over her with grins so idiotically stupid that it made her heart melt. 

"We did it. We saved The Machine." 


	58. SNAFU

Two month time skip

After a trip home to her loft with Root for a shower and a decent meal, the two women returned to the Subway around nine that morning only to find Harold bent over inside the Subway car. "Problems with 'er again, Harry?" Delaney asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at the tech genius. "I thought we'd debugged her entirely." 

"She seems to be having a facial recognition problem." Harold murmured to himself, fingers flying across the keys. "I don't get it. The facial recognition was fine yesterday, so what changed?" Delaney sighed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear as her gaze fell onto the shelves where The Machine had been feeding off of the gaming consoles since they had brought her back to life. 

"We don't have enough processing power." Root replied. "We're running a factory off of a candle. Without the right equipment The Machine is going to keep freaking out." 

"You're right. No servers, no numbers." 

Root and Delaney exchanged a smug glance before she bent over Harolds shoulder. "I thought the priority here was to stop Samaritan?" She questioned, quirking her eyebrow as Harold lifted his eyes which flickered back and forth between the two women. "Saving the world, saving _Shaw?"_

"One thing at a time, in order. The numbers are the way we'll know that The Machine is functioning properly." He swiveled on his chair to face Delaney who was intently focused on her wedding band that John had finally gotten the money to buy two months before, the moonstone center glimmering like frozen moonlight had been encased inside of the most precious jewel in the universe. _I know how much you love the moon and the stars._ "Delaney, it would be advised for you to return to the Precinct and begin working with your husband again. Work as if things are normal, and we will provide you with updates on our work." 

"Oh no, I have things I need and she's the only one who's going to know where to get them." Root chided, pulling a slip of yellow paper from the breast pocket of her night shirt and tucking it into her hand. "You three can go out and do whatever you need to do to get us up and running." She grinned widely at Harold and smacked a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Thanks roomie!" 

Delaney burst into hysterical laughter at the appalled look on Harolds face after Root had smacked his backside before taking her seat inside the Subway car. "Oh, please _stop!"_ She rasped as she clutched her stomach, gasping for air in between fits of laughter. "That-That look on your face was absolutely priceless! I should've taken a photo!" 

***  
While Harold and John went off to do a heist that would give them the power The Machine needed, Delaney disguised herself as best as she knew how and went off to the store to get the things that Root had asked for. She quietly regarded the cashier behind the counter as she stepped into the mini-mart, lowering her sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose to scan for the items. The place was mostly empty, albeit the two employees on the floor and the older woman on the opposite side of the store who was intently flicking through milk cartons.  
  
"Seriously? What on Earth does this woman need slippers for?" Delaney muttered, snagging the first pair of rabbit slippers she saw off of the rack and tossing them into the cart. "If she gets a pair, I get a pair. We're fighting the freaking cyber apocalypse for Gods sakes-" A sharp gasp broke past her lips as a woman slammed her into the back wall of the mini mart, away from surveillance cameras and away from prying eyes. "Get your hands off of me now or I swear I'll put a bullet in your head before you can even blink."   
  
"What kind of a _sick_ joke is this?!" The woman snarled, blue eyes glowering at Delaney as she dug her fingernails into the fabric of her teeshirt. "Who goes around parading with their dead sisters face? I buried my baby sister _years_ ago! Are you- Are you working with that group? Decima?" Delaney felt her blood turn to ice in her veins as she recognized the voice, the eyes, the overall look of the woman who had attacked her. Her older sister Samantha was staring back at her with such a look of terror that it almost made her heart break.   
  
Almost.   
  
That was the perk of shutting her emotions off - she had learned how to block out the sorrow that her family had felt when they lost her mother to breast cancer. The utter tragedy that fell over them when they'd put an empty casket in the ground.  
  
"Would you be so kind as to remove your hands before I break them?" Delaney snapped, cursing as Samantha released her and intently watched as she dusted off her clothes. "I can't talk here. Not in person. What you're going to do is forget that you ever saw me and let me continue my _freaking_ shopping. Do you understand?" Blonde hair fell over her shoulder as her older sister tilted her head, oblivious to the mask of tears hidden behind her sunglasses. "Woman, I am not repeating myself twice."   
  
Delaney turned back towards her cart, fingers wrapped around the grip so tightly her knuckles had begun to turn white. "Just tell me this," Samantha asked quietly, her head bowed to her chest as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "Are you the enemy?" _Who knew four words could make or break you?_ With a resigned sigh, the brunette turned back to her sister and lightly shook her head, her gaze lingering on Samantha for one final moment before she vanished around the corner and left the older Chrysler sister alone. "You just remind me so much of someone I knew.."   
  
***  
  
"These are better then I even thought they'd be." Root spoke in awe. Delaney playfully shoved her away as she sat inside the Subway car, her boots discarded to the side and her own feet tucked into the other pair of slippers. Ever since she'd come back from the Mini Mart, the other woman had not spoken a single word, which was incredibly abnormal for her. "Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost, and I don't think I've ever heard you not speak. Ever."   
  
John and Harold glanced at one another before The Man In The Suit hoisted his wife to his feet and dragged her away from the other members of their family to where their conversation wouldn't be overheard. "She's not wrong you know." John murmured, hand resting beside her head on the opposite side of the Subway car. "You're not one to normally do something like this. Wanna tell me what happened on your shopping excursion?"   
  
Lifting her head to gaze at John, Delaney slowly curved her fingers over the shell of his ear before standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear with her body completely pressed against his. "I went to the Mini-Mart to get the stuff Root needed and some stuff for myself, and I ran into my sister." She whispered. John sighed and softly rested his forehead against her shoulder, her nimble fingers sneaking beneath his suit jacket to tug his dress shirt out of his pants and lightly grip the frame of his hips. "She thought I was playing some sort of sick joke John because as far as she knows, I never came home from the CIA. My father and sister lost more then someone should ever have to. That wasn't what bothered me though."   
  
He hadn't properly touched her in weeks, so he took the time to softly press open mouthed kisses on the side of her neck. "What bothered you?" John whispered, his free hand coming down to grip her hip. She pried herself away from him and stared into the cerulean eyes that were normally so cold and hard - brought upon by all they'd faced since agreeing to work for an Artificial Intelligence. But for her.. they were soft and warm, filled with an awe brought upon by years of being together and years of learning one another as individual souls before they had become one.  
  
"She thought I was working for the enemy." Delaney replied quietly. "That woman has a daughter, a husband who is an advocate for law in New York. She doesn't _need_ to be on the run from Decima, and she is. I have no idea what happened to Marissa or her husband." A soft sigh broke past her lips as tears pricked the back of her eyes. "Regardless of the fact they make think I'm dead, I can't lose my sister and my niece. I barely stood on my own two feet when I thought I'd lost-" Her sentence was cut off by Johns lips capturing her own in a sweet kiss. Delaney softly sighed into his mouth as her fingers threaded through his hair, slightly tilting her head as John teased her lips open with his tongue. Soft and pliant against his own, The Man In The Suit let out a low growl as she slowly pulled herself away and grinned widely at him. "you." 

"I'm sorry that you ran into your sister, and I'm sorry you had to deal with all of this alone. Right now, we've got more important demons to destroy. For starters lets go figure out if our Artificial Intelligence is kicking and screaming yet." John replied, tucking his shirt back into his dress pants and straightening his suit jacket before extending his hand to her. "Alright Harold, fill us in on what we missed.'' 

Root turned away from the heart of The Machine and smiled smugly. "While you were out, I finished using the encrypted systems inside The Subway to tunnel into the governments surveillance feeds. Harry here built the core heuristics into the Subway car so it acts as a mobile station, if we ever were to have to move it." She simply shrugged her shoulders and turned to Harold as if for confirmation. "That's really all you need to know." 

"Now all we have to do is wake it back up."

With a little help from John and Delaney, Root and Finch sat inside the Subway car and intently watched the computer screens in front of them flicker back to life. 

" _Finch? I'm in position."_

_"Me as well."_

Harold cleared his throat and poised his fingers over the keys of the computer, eyes wildly searching the crowds through the eyes of The Machine. "Okay. Firstly, please locate Primary Asset." He commanded. The Machine flickered through the cameras in Time Square before one was angled directly at John, zooming in until the picture was clear enough to see his face. Root grinned eagerly at Harold. "Good. Can you tell us a bit about him?" 

**DOB - Redacted**

**SSN- Redacted**

**Address- Redacted**

**Occupation: Former CIA Agent**

Neither one of them could contain the happiness that bubbled inside as they watched The Machine feed them facts about John Reese. 

**POB - Washington**

**Immediate Relatives**

**Father: Redacted - Conor - _deceased_**

**Mother: Redacted - Margaret - _deceased_**

**Sister: Redacted - Sophie - _deceased_**

Harold furrowed his brow at the reveal of the sister John had never spoken of, choosing to make a mental note of it and ask Delaney later. As his eyes flickered away from the camera briefly he had nearly missed the final note The Machine had made in regards to Johns past. 

_Directly responsible for deaths and disappearances of 62 persons_

"Oh dear," Harold said quietly, eyes shying away from John as he turned to the middle monitor. "Now before we continue, maybe you can tell us about the people around him?" In an instant The Machine began to filter off facts about people in the surrounding crowd of Johns vicinity in Times Square, rifling through the most important facts about that persons life. Dates of birth, places of birth, social security numbers; all the way to the deepest darkest secrets any man could keep. 

"Wow." Root said in awe. "An _open system._ I will never understand why you shut all of this information in a box, Harry. We can ask it to search for anything. For anyone." Harold immediately knew of who she spoke of; the disappearance of Sameen Shaw and using the open system to their advantage in order to find their missing friend. "Alright, my turn. Find Secondary Primary Asset." 

Delaney had opted to stand on the opposite side of the road from John in an entirely different crowd of people, with the advantage of only one visible camera pointed in her direction. Root whistled as the camera on the opposite side of the street zoomed in on their Lady In Red who was casually leaning against one of the walls beside a department store. "Now, tell us a little bit about Delaney." 

**DOB- Redacted**

**SSN- Redacted**

**Address- Redacted**

**Occupation: Former CIA Agent**

"Well, considering you spent the first month you knew her wiping every little detail of her life from the world, I can't say I'm too surprised that there's nothing out there on her." Root said, eyes narrowing as The Machine fed the two of them as many facts on The Lady In Red as it could provide. 

**Former Medic to Serve in Iraq and Afghanistan**

**POB: New York State**

**Immediate Relatives**

**Father: Philip**

**Mother: Redacted - Darla - _deceased_**

**Sister: Samantha**

"John, Delaney, thank you for being our guinea pigs." Harold praised. Root leaned in closer to the tech genius and gazed over the monitors of The Machine in awe before she swiveled her head in order to meet his awed eyes behind the glasses he wore. 

"Alright Harold, now for the real thing. Let's do it." Root pronounced, the slightest tinge of excitement evident in her voice. "Let's run her full blast." 

"Do you think she's sufficiently debugged?" 

"Absolutely! We've waited long enough. Let's get the numbers running again." After inputting the execute irrelevant list code, both Harold and Root turned towards the broken portion of the Subway wall where they had discovered a telephone that had been installed there years before the renovations. It felt like an eternity had past before the phone began to ring, emanating off the inner walls as they rushed to answer it. " _She's back?"_

"With a vengeance. We need to get back to work!" 

***

_Thirty numbers spread between four people._

John had intercepted a teenager who had faked a bomb threat to get out of a math test he was supposed to take. Fusco had been escorted to a play, Kat a high school, and here she was watching their number play cops and robbers on a local playground in Manhattan. 

"Finch, I think something is wrong with our Machine." Delaney stressed, snorting as the other child, a blonde boy with wide green eyes and a mischievous smile, dramatically placed his hands over his heart and fell into the sandbox with a thud. "The number you gave me? Doesn't even know what murder is. They're two five years old boys playing cops and robbers in a park outside a local elementary school in Manhattan." 

Finch sighed deeply out of added stress and managed a small nod. "Thank you for the update, Delaney. The numbers are spread rather well between the four of you, so you can move on to the next. I sent you a name." She pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and glanced down at the name, chewing on the flesh of her bottom lip as she casually began ambling towards the exit of the Park. 

_And onto another number we go._

***

" _Delaney? I've got a job that you and Kat would excel at. Laurie Granger, our newest number. Sent the details to your phone."_

After a rather long, shrewd line of expletives muttered under her breath, Delaney left the cafe she'd stopped in after looking into the other numbers and made her way back to the Precinct. Kat Campbell was sitting on the stoop outside the front door with her back against the wall, lips curled around the water bottle she'd always carried with her. "Did our beloved squad tell you about this country bumpkins number too?" She chastised as she hopped down from the stoop and landed on her feet in front of the other brunette. "John and Fusco are still working through the overhaul of numbers that your Machine spat out whenever she was resuscitated. Guess this one is all on us." 

Delaney snorted in disbelief as Kat played with her car keys. "All on us until John gets antsy and decides to crash our party." She replied sarcastically. "But if it makes you feel better about yourself, sure. It's all on us." The two women entered the car as Kat calmly drove through the trafficked streets in the City while Delaney rifled through the little they knew about their number. "Gods, why did we agree to do this? Looking for a tourist in _this_ city? I'm a woman who deserves her beauty sleep!" Kat flashed a bashful grin as her closest friend dramatically moaned and sank into the passenger seat. "Ten dollars says John's the lucky one and she's already made her way to the Precinct." 

After an hour of frantically searching through the most populated tourist spots in the City, the two of them made their way back to the front of the Precinct. Delaney kept her eyes glued to the screen of her phone as she slammed the passenger door shut, turning to the car with a raised eyebrow as Kat remained behind the wheel. "I'm gonna head off for the night until you all need my assistance again." She called out through the open passenger window. "Try not to get yourself killed in the process!" 

"I make no promises!" Delaney called back, grinning widely at Kat as she disappeared inside the front doors of the 8th Precinct. 

***

The young woman gazed down at the unknown text messages she had been replying to for the past three days. At first she had been convinced that children were playing a cruel prank on her; but as the days passed, the more the unknown sender began to make sense, despite the morbidity of the conversation they'd been having. Each response was short and to the point, each sent text no more then a single sentence.

Something was interested in her. 

**From: Unknown**

**You are one to sacrifice yourself for the greater good.**

She pursed her lips and poised her fingers over the touch screen keyboard. 

**To: Unknown**

**Yes. If there is a purpose larger then myself, I will do whatever it takes to fulfill it.**

Her heart constricted as the response came less then a minute later, eyes scanning the message as she reread it multiple times to comprehend the meaning behind it. 

**From: Unknown**

**Your devotion will be your downfall.**

***

The scream that emanated against the inner walls of the Subway car was enough to nearly shatter the bones that made up his skeleton. Harold whipped around to stabilize Root as she sank to the floor, eyes screwed tightly shut and fingers resting against the shell of her ear where her cochlear implant had been installed. "She-She's talking to me again!" She cried out, slowly standing to her feet. "Oh, she's not a happy camper. Doesn't seem like she's up for the whole reboot." 

Confusion filled the tech genius as he lightly gripped her forearm. When building The Machine at the very start of its heroic charade, one of the first things he'd inputted into the AI was to not hurt people. So _why_ had she hurt the woman who had been her voice for so long? "She overloaded your cochlear implant?" He asked, concern laced in his softened tone as Root slowly nodded. "I programmed it never to hurt anyone. That was a primary preset."

"We're trying to shut her down, alter her code. She's.." Roots voice faltered as realization hit. "She's scared, Harry." 

That caught his attention. To be scared of a threat was one thing - but of her creator and her voice? Had she registered the two of them has threats? "Scared?" He murmured as he turned back towards the monitors, bending low enough to eye the cameras. "Are you there? Who are we?"

Immediately the feeds were brought back online only to confirm their worst fear - she had registered them as red leveled threats. 

Silence filled the Subway car as Harold struggled to form a comprehensible sentence. "It's designated us as threats." He said quietly, gaze fixated on the ground so he would not have to gaze at the hurt that passed over Root. "If it takes any more counter measures.. We're out of our depth here." Harold tapped the inside of his earpiece as he and Root both exited the car through the doors they had forced open. "Mr. Reese? Mrs. Reese? The Machine has turned on us, and we're in need of some help." 

Delaney had been tailing John since she'd found him with Laurie inside the Precinct - making sure to stick to the shadows as she tailed him through the innermost street of Chinatown that lead directly back to the Subway. "I'm tailing John now, Finch-" Her eyes widened as the redhead pulled her handgun out of her fanny pack and immediately began firing on John. "You have _got_ to be freaking kidding me!" 

" _What just happened?"_

Despite the fact that John was over a hundred feet down the street tucked behind a newspaper stand, she heard his words as clear as a bell through their commlink. 

" _Good news? This number is legit. Bad news? I'm the victim!"_

A smug smile quirked her lips upward as she removed her favorite weapon from her waistband and flicked the safety off - checking the magazine as she reassembled the weapon and cocked the slide. Delaney peered around the corner and narrowed her eyes at Laurie as she too began firing amidst the cacophony of bullets that pierced the night. 

"Looks like we're back in action, ladies and gentleman!" 

_"You know Finch, that last number?!"_ John exclaimed over the noise. " _They don't make hit women like her in Oklahoma. She has Special Forces training. She's the real thing!"_

Delaney and John locked eyes from across the street before the brunette shrugged and broke from the shadows, slamming into the redhead who gasped at the sudden contact and fell to her knees on the sidewalk. "Sorry there cupcake." Delaney retorted, wiggling her eyebrows as Laurie snarled in retaliation. "No one gets to shoot my husband and get away with it. Catch us if you can!" 

John watched with a look of both awestruck wonder and complete disbelief in how idiotic his wife could be at times as she took off further down the road and out of his sight. " _She was at the Precinct, saw Del and I there. She knows our cover ID. If either of us come back to the Subway.. we'd be leading the enemy right to you."_

Delaney whistled through her teeth and drew Lauries attention right on her - giving John the opportunity to peek around the newspaper stand and examine their options. " _Oh, I'm totally counting on it."_ Delaney remarked, tightening her ponytail before replacing her clip. " _Let's see who wins. The cat or the mouse?"_

"We'll deal with The Machine. You two need to capture that assassin and see who she works for. Happy hunting Reeses!" Harold tapped the inside of his earpiece and cast a look at Root before they both slowly approached the front doors of the Subway car, hands raised in surrender. Root screamed in pain as she fell against the inside of the doorway. "Woah, okay.. okay. We're not going to hurt you." 

"I-I don't like being a bargaining chip." She murmured, pain throbbing against her inner skull as she clutched the side of her head. 

"We are not threats. We _help_ people." Harold said softly. Almost in an instant The Machine pulled up old footage of Root from the beginning of their excursion; before she had learned how precious life was and had ceased her endless cycles of killing. "That was years ago. Miss Groves has changed because of your intervention." The picture changed to Elizabeth Bridges - an older woman Harold had met in a convention in Hong Kong that Root had nearly killed, had it not been for Harold choosing to risk his own life for her. 

"But I didn't kill her!" Root protested. 

"Only because I stopped you." Harold whispered in reply. The picture shifted again to their night in the insane asylum - hands wrapped around Martines throat as she snapped her neck in one swift motion. Harold had thought then he'd been appalled at her actions, but the death of the Samaritan operative who had rained hell down on them for months brought him a strange sense of comfort he'd never wanted to experience. 

"Okay, I did kill her. But there were extenuating circumstances." 

An audio clip of Harolds voice from years previous then played from the monitor -- sending chills down his spine as the two of them stared at the screen in complete and utter shame. 

_The Machine, I killed it because it lied._

Harold slowly turned to face Root. "The Machine thinks we're monsters." 

_And what makes a monster a monster? A creature who thrives on the fear of the people, one who delights in ending lives instead of saving them._

" _Maybe she's right."_ They stepped outside of the car in sync and sat at the bench closest to the opposite side of the Subway. "So, now we have to provoke her. All she's done up until now is act defensively." Harold glanced at her through his peripheral vision before shifting his weight to gaze back at the Subway car. 

"We don't know that. It's possible The Machine could've sent the assassin after John and Delaney. Though based on what he said, I am inclined to believe it is after John and Delaney is the distraction so the two of them can capture Laurie together." A pregnant pause ensued as Root waited for him to finish his sentence. "What if it comes down to The Machine or us? Do we kill it?" 

It wasn't as if they hadn't thought about it multiple times since the creation of The Machine, but neither of them had ever anticipated things would go this far. How many would die in its name? How many would be lost under the loss of a war between two Gods? Who would be left? Which side would _win?_

"The Machine is our only chance of survival. We can't hurt her!" 

"If I have to choose between it and you-"

Root vigorously shook her head, oak curls spread over her shoulders as she turned away from Harold. "We have to find another way." She replied firmly, curling her fingers underneath the seat of the bench. Harold swallowed thickly and turned back to the way he'd originally been seated before tapping the inside of his earpiece. 

" _John? Have you subdued your rival?"_

John had been slowly trekking through the dark for the greater portion of a half an hour - with no word from his wife and no gunfire to indicate where the two women had run off to. "Almost. Delaney made a seriously good distraction. Only problem is that I have no idea where she-" His eyes snapped over to the front doors of a Chinese market where a flash of red hair passed through before vanishing around the corner. "Is. Don't worry Harold. We'll have this one wrapped up in a minute." 

After nearly refusing to remove Root from the bargaining between him and The Machine, Harold reluctantly followed the steps she'd barked to him in order to knock her out with the anesthetic Delaney kept on hand inside of the Subway before leaving the unconscious woman on the mattress of her bedroom. He kept his chin high and mind clear as he sat at his desk and lifted his eyes to defiantly gaze at his creation. 

" _It's time we had a chat._ " He snapped. "Show me the hit woman." 

Immediately the monitor depicted the camera focused on their hit woman - who was hidden behind a stand inside the Chinese market and intently searching for either John or his wife. "Did Samaritan hire her to kill John or did you?" 

**Asset Confimed: Laurie Granger**

**I did.**

His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. " _This has to stop."_

_***_

"Please call off the hit. You called me Father once. Please trust me. I'm the one who taught you." Harold recoiled as The Machine pulled up older footage it had recorded of him years before, when he'd been teaching her to discern the good from the bad. 

_You have done well today. But now.. You will have to separate the bad people from the good. The terrorists from the innocents. Like Anubis, you will have to weigh each and every one of our hearts against a feather. Do not trust deceivers._ His heart sank at the irony behind his own words. _If our hearts are heavy, you will be our last defense against oblivion._

The footage stopped rolling. 

"Everything was so clear then. We were waging the grand campaign - good versus evil. These days black and white just dissolve into grey scale." His voice softened as Harold pried his eyes away from the screens and settled his gaze back onto his hands rested against the desk, slightly trembling as he meticulously planned out his words. "I was wrong. I suppose that everyone feels that he's the hero in his own story but there are no heroes, no villains, just people doing the best they can. I'm sorry for everything. My only justification is that I did the best I could. So did Miss Groves, and John to. And let us not forget the most impressive of all, Delaney Chrysler Reese." Tears pricked the back of his eyes as Harold turned his head to the ceiling. "When I met her, she was a woman without hope, without purpose. Her only friend was the bottom of a bottle, and with a little bit of convincing, we were able to turn a broken woman into something so much greater then she ever imagined herself to be. Delaney Reese is a _fantastic_ woman - one who deserves to be commended for the steps she's taken into making herself exactly that." The camera shifted exactly to her - Delaney leaning against the wall with her weapon held high, eyes focused, expression vacant. She'd become exceedingly proficient in turning off her emotions since the disappearance of Sameen Shaw. 

And then the camera switched back to John as more gunfire erupted. 

**Certain things are unforgivable.**

The Machine laid out the things John had tried so desperately to forget - the pieces of his past that he'd buried deep inside of him and chose to never relive. 

Crimes

**Murder**

**Assault**

**Torture**

**Betrayal**

"John has the heaviest heart of all of us, but he is fighting hardest to be good." Harold uttered. "He's not a bad man. In fact, it is his wife who has made him into an exceptional one." He leaned back in his chair and gently tapped the inside of his earpiece. "John? Del? There's something I need to tell you. Samaritan didn't send that woman.. The Machine did. _"_

_"What?! Now that is one seriously deadly bug, Finch!"_

Before he could even begin to respond, The Machine blacked out all of the monitors, obstructing his view of both his Primary Assets. "You listen to me. We can work together." The same dotted red box - labeling him as a threat- appeared around his face before the screen blacked once again. "I will _never_ hurt you again." 

**You are hurting me now**

His eyes widened with fear. "What day is it?"

**Day _R._**

" _R.._ R is the mathematical set of all real number. Today is everyday to you. I killed you _42_ times and you are constantly reliving those 42 deaths." Dread snapped at his stomach like vicious fangs waiting for the moment to tear him apart as Harold expression fell somber. "You need an anchor in time. The numbers-" He stood from his chair and ambled over to the filing cabinet in the corner before returning to the desk with a stack of manila folders. "The numbers! These are all the cases we've worked on together, all the people we've saved." He opened the first file to reveal Megan Tillmans information and photo. "Doctor Megan Tillman. We prevented her from committing murder in 2011 only for her to return the favor by taking care of Delaney after she had been tortured brutally." 

" _Finch! Did you get through to it yet?!"_

"We'll see. Is everything alright?" 

John glanced down at his empty weapon. " _Not exactly. I just ran out of ammo. Looks like my wife will be useful after all."_ The ex-CIA assassin whistled loudly enough for the entire market to hear, drawing Delaney from her hiding spot and directly in the line of fire. " _We could really use that distraction now, genius!"_

 _"I'm all over it!"_ Delaney frantically waved at Laurie as the redhead whipped around on her heel, firing absentmindedly as she danced through the open aisle. " _Wanna have a challenge, you psychopath! Free target! Only thing you need to know-_ " Laurie gasped as a bullet pierced her arm, scarlet flowing from the wound as Delaney cheered with victory. " _I bite harder then you think!"_

Harold opened one final folder and tilted it upward to the camera. "Lastly, Grace. You sent us her number in 2014. Helped us to save her life. I will never be able to thank you enough." His tongue darted out past his lips to wet the parched skin as Harold gently closed the file and set it on top of the others. "These numbers will be your lighthouses. It'll help you to count the days. There is good and bad in all of us. This action, saving lives, it is a pure _good._ Help us. I can't promise you we'll always do the right thing, but we will do the best we can." 

**Reassessing contextual data...**

Harold tilted his head as the registered threat turned into the soft yellow _Admin_ sign he'd grown so accustomed to seeing over the course of the years he'd spent with The Machine. 

**I am sorry.**

He lightly shook his head. "We all do terrible things. Now _please_ call off the hit on John and Delaney." 

**Paid in advance.**

Laurie grimaced through the pain of her gunshot wound as she rounded the corner John had been hiding in, eyes narrowing on the brunette in front of her. "Fun's over, punk!" She snarled, finger curled around the trigger and prepared to fire. Delaney fell to the floor so fast she barely saw John slam the floor of a skateboard into her head - causing her to drop her weapon in the process and granting him enough time to pick it up himself. "You two aren't cops." 

"No, but we're sure trying." 

***

"Bear! _Komen! (1)"_

Sunshine warmed her pale skin as Delaney hurled the tennis ball towards the spot Root and Harold had set up several hundred feet away, the Belgian Malinois bounding through the freshly cut grass to retrieve it. She jogged in the direction of the trio, brow furrowed in confusion as John had yet to join their picnic excursion. "Where is my husband?" She questioned, hands pressed against her hips as she instinctively flexed the core muscles of her stomach beneath her white teeshirt she normally wore. 

"Oh, you're going to love this." Fusco muttered. "He's trying on new threads. I finally convinced him to join the bowling team I'm a part of, and he's _loving_ the uniform." The Homicide Detective tapped her on the shoulder as they both turned towards John, who was walking toward them in a button up yellow and black shirt that strangely enough, resembled a bumble bee.

"Yeah, I'm totally not doing this-" He replied, gripping his wives ponytail and gently yanking it upward to glower at the hysterical laughter that had caused her to double over in the first place. "You know, you are supposed to be my wife. The logical one who convinces me to _not_ get myself into stuff like this?" 

"What, you think this is my fault?!" She rasped, yanking herself out of Johns grasps and moving to hide behind Root. "I can't help it if you look like a bumblebee!" John stuck his tongue out at her playfully as she sank to her knees beside Root who had begun to prepare their picnic meal, but not before she took a moment to admire the plethora of smiling parents and laughing children milling around the park. "Wow did things get somber here real quick. I don't like it." 

"No one knows we're a world at war. Poor ignorant, blissful fools." She dug into the wicker basket and pulled out a stack of paper plates, handing one to the two people who sat to her left. "So, think we can trust our champion now?" Harold leaned backward on the heels of his hands and nodded wistfully, eyes still keenly watching the people inside of the park. 

"I think The Machine is sane again. Thank goodness that's over." 

Somewhere in another part of the City as the members of Team Machine took a moment of opportunity to rest, an ex-convict was signing his life away to an entity who was capable of the most unimaginable deeds known to man. As he signed that invisible contract to willingly risk everything, the blonde man was unaware of the biggest crime he'd commit. 

_Taking the life of one of the most important people in this war._


	59. BONUS: 6,741

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sameen's simulations.

\-------------------

_Everything you are running from is inside your head._

\-------------------

Sameen Shaw had escaped from custody. She had endured months of Samaritan hell only to find herself back in Manhattan - without her family, without resources, without a _plan._ How had she gotten here? How had she become a machine? 

After a narrow miss with multiple Samaritan operatives, she found herself at a loss as her trembling hands disregarded her now empty weapon. "Whoever is back there, kick over your weapon and we'll let you keep full mobility." A familiar female voice called out. With a pained grunt, Sameen kicked the empty gun to the opposite side of the store where a graceful hand snatched it up, but not before revealing two faces she had been desperate to see since the Stock Exchange. 

"Well then, I never thought I'd see the day." Delaney Reese murmured, stepping forward beside Root as the other woman stared in awe at Shaw. "Sameen Shaw, back from the depths of hell itself. Can't say I'm surprised. You've always been one tough cat." 

"Good grief, you have no idea how much I missed your sarcasm." Shaw whispered. "Thank you for saving me again you two. What a friendly homecoming this is." 

"I can't believe it's you." Root replied, her eyes glassy with tears as she and Shaw met each others gaze for the first time in months. After what felt like an eternity, Samantha Groves felt like she could wholly breathe again. Before Root could ask how she had escaped, Sameen began seizing in place and collapsed on the floor. " _Shaw!_ " 

"Root, don't touch her!" Delaney snapped, rushing forward to catch the ex-assassin and slowly lowering her to the floor. The former war doctor pushed dark strands of hair towards the shelves and swiped on her cellphone flashlight, grimacing at the makeshift bandaging on the wound behind her ear. "She's been implanted with some sort of tracking chip. It's messing with her brain worse then I expected. Like it's.. like it's trying to manipulate her into betraying us."

"Can you take it out?" 

Delaney shook her head as the two of them hoisted their conscious family member to her feet, arms tightly wrapped around her waist. "Not here I can't. Have to have my med supplies, but with our luck.." Roots eyes widened as Delaney slipped her pocket knife out from the heel of her boot, the scarlet handle glimmering in the dim light from the city street. "A pocket knife is going to have to do the job for me." 

***

Intense pain thrummed against the inside of her skull as Shaw slowly stirred from her sleep, her body aching as she adjusted her position on a row of seats in what looked to be a subway car. "Samaritan is definitely tracking her. We can't go back to the Subway. It'll be leading them straight to The Machine." The ominous, deep voice was most definitely Johns, who stood feet in front of her with his arm loosely wrapped around his wives shoulders. 

" _Root-_ " Shaw croaked, drawing all three pairs of eyes to the wounded woman on the bench. Delaney cast a worried glance at John who tenderly pressed his lips to her temple as Root moved to kneel beside Sameen. "They got inside my head." 

"Way ahead of you." Root replied quietly as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "We've seen Samaritans brain accessories before. Let's have our killer war surgeon take that chip out of your skull, yeah?" Shaw swallowed the bile in her throat as her eyes narrowed in on Delaney who was now hovering over her and sterilizing her pocket knife. 

"She knows as well as I do that we're on a moving subway car that's probably caked in rat crap. It's not the ideal operating theater." 

Delaney snorted softly as Root moved backward to allow her the space she needed to work. "Listen you, I have reattached severed limbs to screaming soldiers in the middle of the desert with blood up to my elbows. This is nothing." She reassured, flicking open her blade and slowly peeling off the bandage now caked in her blood. 

"Brain surgery medieval style. Awesome." 

Delaney hovered over Shaw as she gently probed the wound with the tip of her knife. "Story time tends to distract my awake patients." She said quietly. "Do you remember how we first met? I wanted to kill you as quick as possible for being an obnoxiously short woman with a temper. It's a good thing we warmed up to each other." 

"Not nearly as bad as the first time I meet Root." Shaw muttered. "She tried to burn me with an iron. That was painful." Delaney bit down roughly on her lip as she met pained brown orbs inches away from her face. 

"If that was bad, this is going to suck." 

"Just get this _freaking_ thing out of me!" She snapped. Her sarcastic remarks were replaced with screams as Delaney slowly and methodically maneuvered the Samaritan chip out of the lobe of the brain in had been installed into. No one moved to silence her screams or halt her seizing as Shaw succumbed to the pain, the last thing she saw being a bloody microchip and a look of concern as Delaney wiped and handed it over to Root. 

***

The next time she woke up, the majority of her body was tucked into thick blankets and her head sunk into the soft material of pillows on an unknown bed. Slowly opening her eyes, Sameen squinted into the dimly lit room and recognized the interior brick of Roots apartment. "We must not throw caution to the wind." Harold urged. The four of them were safe for the time being, believing Shaw to be safely asleep in the bed as Delaney and Root pressed Harold into allowing their doctor to attend to the wounds of their patient. "Remember, Martine told us Shaw had been turned." 

"She was lying." Root replied calmly. "Shaw is one of _us."_

From where John sat at the table, he gently shook his head in response. "We don't know what they did to her." The Man In The Suit winced as the liquor cabinet slammed shut after Delaney had pulled out the best bottle of whiskey Root had to offer, setting two glasses down on the table before pouring the amber liquid into them. "You, drinking? _Now?_ " 

"We're running from an enemy AI in the middle of the night and now I have to fight with you two to take care of our wounded friend? I need some liquid courage." She retorted, downing the glass in one go before wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. "Hey Sam, our mutual friend is happy to see you!" 

As if on cue, Bear burst out of his hiding spot and jumped onto the bed with his face pressed against Sameens chest, eager to see his other master. "Oh Bear, it's so good to see you too buddy." Shaw cooed, smirking as Harold commanded the Belgian Malinois off of the bed and to sit at his side. Her brow furrowed as her fingers flitted back to her neck - where her previously bloody wound was now cleanly stitched and bandaged. "The chip?" 

"Properly removed by yours truly." Delaney interjected, nodding to Root who held up a baggie with the microchip stashed inside. "Secured and disabled." 

"I'll analyze the chip to see what information is on it. Might be beneficial for The Machine." Harold remarked. Her eyes lit up as they shifted towards Root, who had moved considerably closer in the time she'd been awake. 

"So The Machine is alive?" 

"Alive and well." Root responded. "Wanna take a field trip?" 

Delaney visibly tensed from where she stood beside John. It had been months since they'd seen Sameen, let alone had pinpointed her location, and Root had thrown all caution to the wind and wanted to take her to see The Machine after having only just restored it? 

"If I leave here, they might pick up the scent. Probably best we didn't." 

Harold nodded wistfully. "Best you stay cautious, Miss Shaw. A well thought out plan takes time. We haven't survived this long with virtue of rash decisions." Delaney frowned from where she sat beside John as she watched Shaws expression morph from one of exhaustion to pure, pent up rage over the fact that Harold had given up looking for her months ago. 

"Yeah, cause actions aren't really your thing huh? _"_ Shaw snapped. Everyone in the room felt the tension rise as she scowled at Harold, who looked the equivalent to a deer in the headlights. "Did you even look for me?" 

" _Of course we did._ " 

"Not hard enough." 

Delaney pursed her lips and downed the remainder of her whiskey as Harold promptly turned away from the other two women to regard the Reeses' where they sat together on the sofa. "We should go John." Harold urged. Even through the darkness Delaney could clearly see the shame and humiliation lurking in the eyes of the tech genius. "I trust you'll recover smoothly under Miss Groves care." 

John and Harold moved towards the door, leaving the three women alone for a brief moment. Delaney turned over her shoulder and managed a weak smile at Shaw, who hung her head to her chest and wrung her hands in her lap. "If you need me, for _anything_ , you call me. Doctors orders. Understand?" 

The dark haired woman on the bed gave a mock salute to the former medic as she stepped out of the apartment and gently closed the door behind her. Delaney ran a hand through her hair as she followed the hallways down to the main lobby of the apartment building where John was waiting for her by the front door, eyes cast on the vacant street outside. "If you ever went missing again," He said quietly, gripping her hand in his own as they flagged down a taxi cab to take them back to the Loft. "I would move heaven and earth to find you again. That'd be more then what I did last time." 

She inhaled deeply and slowly squeezed his knee. "You did everything you could to get me away from Decima and Vigilance. Me going through my own personal hell had to happen in order for me to learn the purpose of what we're really doing here. In order for me to learn the value of life, I had to nearly lose my own." John gently took their clasped hands and raised them to his lips, causing her heart to skip a beat as he uncurled her fingers and kissed each fingertip. "I love you, John Reese." 

"I love you too." 

***

The next morning found them inside a local diner, eating a meager meal and drinking as much coffee as their bodies would allow. She huddled closer into her coat as she finished off her breakfast, head snapping upward as she recognized Roots thin form entering the diner. "What was so urgent that you had me come all the way here to tell me?" She questioned, grimacing as Delaney motioned for her to sit down. 

"Finch finished analyzing the chip." John remarked. "It's a placebo. If there's anything wrong with Shaw, it definitely isn't the chip. Is she alright?" 

"She's.." Roots voice broke off as she rolled her eyes and turned her head back towards John. "She's behaving strangely." John swallowed thickly and nudged Delaney beside him, forcing her to put down her coffee cup to listen into their conversation about Sameen. 

"Do you think you could help us figure out what's really wrong with her? You saw much more psychological in the war then I did. Your experience may prove to be incredibly useful here." Delaney pursed her lips, her eyes flickering back down to her coffee cup loosely tucked in her hands. "Are you paying attention to me?" 

Oblivious to his look of annoyance, she pushed her cup in his direction and motioned to the main counter. "Can you _pretty please_ go and get me more coffee? This body doesn't work without it." She pleaded, grinning as John sighed in defeat and rose to his feet, sliding out of the booth and walking towards the main counter. "You slept with her, didn't you? You've got that.. look in your eyes." 

Root groaned and leaned back into the seat. "I knew you were going to ask me that. Does it really matter though? You were right. I do have.. feelings for her. Still not sure if I'm going to act on them properly with us being in the middle of a war." She stopped short as John returned with a steaming hot cup of coffee and sat it in front of her before taking his seat back inside of the booth. 

"So what were you two being so secretive about?" 

Root smirked as Delaney casually sipped her coffee. "Whether or not we know what's wrong with Shaw, or if she's turned." She replied. Root leaned forward on her elbows that rested on the table and locked eyes with John, almost daring him to speak that sentence again. 

"Shaw is not the enemy here. You have _no idea_ what Samaritan put her through." She snarled. 

"Or how it's changed her."  


"You don't get it, do you? I won't hurt her. Ever. And neither will you. _Either_ of you." John smiled broadly, almost in disbelief, as he threw his arm over the back of the booth. "Don't act like I don't know that look, John. Why do you think your wife has suddenly become silent all of a sudden?" 

"I'm not saying that you have to hurt her! Look, just stay with her. See if you can find out anything-" Delaneys hands slipped from her coffee cup as she abruptly shot up from her seat in the booth, eyes locked on Shaw who had stormed into the diner without the three of them detecting her. _Once an assassin, always an assassin._ The dark haired woman glowered at her family members before furrowing her brow out of anger directed at John and Root. 

"So I don't get it. You guys think I'm a double agent or that I'm a human bomb about to detonate?" Sameen snapped angrily. Her ominous brown irises flickered between the three of them before she jabbed a finger at John. "John's a professional douchebag, but I can not believe you don't trust me. And _you_ -" Her accusing finger shifted over to Delaney, who was watching her through narrowed amber irises. Almost as if she was attempting to diagnose her - like a doctor should. "I thought you'd grown a pair and started speaking your mind. When did silence become your fallback?" 

Delaney continued watching their altercation through narrowed brown eyes as she thought back to her earliest days of being a medic in Iraq and Afghanistan. John had been captured once and tortured before, leaving him with extreme mental repercussions that had taken him nearly a year to pull himself out of. She knew that there were different forms of torture - so which one had Samaritan used on Shaw, and why? To get to The Machine?

_That's what they did to you; exploited your weaknesses to get you to confess on the whereabouts of The Machine._

Mental torture was one of the worst experiences any human being could go through. It changes you. Being forced to believe a lie when all you've ever seen the world for was what it was; something with the capability of being breathtakingly beautiful that can turn on you in a fraction of a second, taking everything away with just a snap of its cold fingers. 

Humanity was flawed, imperfect, depending on one another and to those who believed in a higher power that was watching over them. 

Delaney swallowed the last of her coffee as she gently nudged John in the lower back with her elbow. "John-" She whispered, warning laced in her tone. "She's not seeing us the way she used to. I think.. I think she believes that this world, _us,_ is a simulation." The rest of her sentence was cut off as Shaw snatched the nearest cellphone, dialing an unknown number before pressing the phone against her ear. 

"This is Sameen Shaw. I know you're looking for me, so come and _get me._ " She pressed the end call button and returned the phone to its owner before regarding her three partners. "I'm taking the fight to Samaritan right now and I'm going to destroy it once and for all." 

John visibly tensed under the shorter womans venomous stare. "We aren't equipped for this hunting party." Three pairs of eyes flitted down to the full stocked duffel bag hanging off of her shoulder; loaded with explosives and a large automatic machine gun she'd managed to store inside. 

"We are now. I brought extra party favors. It's time we slay the dragon."

Delaney stepped out from behind John and adjusted the weapon she always carried in her waistband. almost like it was her security blanket besides the man who had devoted the rest of his life to her. "Or it's time we hit the road. We don't need more dead Samaritan operatives and more questions to answer." 

***

The next place they found themselves was Samaritans base of Operations. 

Bursting through the door, Delaney slowly exhaled through her nose and stood parallel to Shaw, her eyes narrowed in on her targets and weapon raised high in defense of her life. Gunfire pierced the air and made her ears violently ring as she covered John, Root covering Sameen as they made their way deeper into the base. The air was pungent with blood and gunpowder as she locked on John Greer, who Sameen had begun to close in on. 

" _Hey Gramps!"_

Delaney rushed forward and narrowly missed catching Root as she fell, weapon discarded as she hurried to apply pressure to the gunshot wound inflicted by Greer. "Take her." John demanded as Delaney slipped her weapon into her waistband, shivering as the cold metal touched the base of her spine. Her arm wound around Roots waist as she hoisted the woman to her feet. "I'll cover Shaw so Greer doesn't try anything stupid." 

Their path brought them into a Catholic Church. Delaney allowed her mind to wander to the last time she'd been to a church service - when she'd been on active duty and she'd forced John to attend the bi-weekly services they held in the tent opposite the infirmary. John had claimed to have been brought up to a certain degree in the pew of a sanctuary, but had stopped going whenever his adopted mother had passed away. 

_And when he gets to Heaven_

_Saint Peter he will tell;_

_"Just another soldier reporting, sir, I've spent my time in Hell."_

What a quote to represent the literal version of hell they were going through while fighting the Cyber Apocalypse. 

She was drawn out of her trance as Harolds voice filled her ears. "Turns out that this," He gestured to the massive, vacant sanctuary. "Is the best place to hide from a god. This way please." The group made their way through a separate hallway that lead into the basement of the church; foundation built with pure stone and completely hidden away from the enemy AI. "It seems that centuries old stone works as a modern Faraday cage." 

"Best we not wake the guests." 

Delaney felt her stomach clench as she realized they were in fact heading into a mausoleum for the dead that was kept in the foundation of the church. "We should be safe here." Harold remarked, only for Greer to snort out of amusement. 

"How unreasonably optimistic of you." He retorted. 

"There's no hiding him!" John exclaimed. "Not for long!" John Greer admired his enemies before his eyes fell on the Former War Veteran, who was reflexively curling her fingers into a fist by her side. He'd seen it a thousand times before - the healer was itching to take his life. 

It took all her self control to not put the bullet in his head herself. 

" _Then we kill him while we still have the chance."_ Root interjected. 

"We don't render final judgments, Miss Groves." Harold stated calmly.

"That's just it, Finch. If we don't have the final say then this war we're fighting is already over." Delaney murmured, stepping out of the shadows to join the conversation. "He is the concrete catalyst in our war against Samaritan. You kill the Admin, who is it going to listen to? Certainly not anyone else. We have to end it _now_." 

Shaw swallowed thickly as she swiped at the sweat beading on the crown of her head. "I need your pocket knife." She muttered, extending her hand towards Delaney. She grimaced and brought her knee to her chest just high enough to dig the pocket knife she kept hidden in her boot out. 

"I thought you were the one who said cut off the head and the dragon dies?" Root asked. Her amber irises narrowed as Shaw flicked the blade open and advanced towards Greer. 

"Oh believe me, Puffs head is gonna roll." She stated darkly. "But not before he tells us how to defeat it." Greer cast an indignant look at Sameen as she twirled the pocket knife in her hands. 

"I'm not the head of the beast as you suggest. There is no head. As such, I am irrelevant so you may do with me what you will. Torture, kill-" 

"You know, I was hoping that you'd say that." Shaw lurched forward and gripped the restraints that bound his hands together, her opposite hand tightly gripping his shoulder as she guided Greer into the room opposite where they stood. She forced him into the nearest chair and dug through her duffel bag until she came up with a roll of duct tape, bounding him to the chair by his wrists. "You had me strapped to a bed for nine months." 

"And now you're simply returning the favor. Retribution time, is it?" John moved out of the shadows and into the same room as Sameen to assure she didn't do something she would end up regretting later. Delaney remained in the main room of the basement as she worked to clean and bandage the gunshot wound that Root had obtained. 

"Well, that's one thing we operatives are good at." 

"Hey, my days in MI6 are long gone." Greer replied. Shaw leaned over his shoulders from behind the chair and wrapped her hands around the arm rests of the chair he was restrained in. 

"But not your habits. I knew alot of guys like you, just like John and Delaney did too. I _was_ you. And one of the qualities you all have in common is that you always have an out. And you built the freaking thing so you must have an off switch." Delaney and Harold entered the room silently, opting to remain behind John as Greer huffed in annoyance. 

"Be a dear and wake me up whenever you stop asking the same question." 

Shaw lifted her head to John, tossing him Delaney's pocketknife as she stepped backward and he stepped forward. The other two assassins in the room stood idly by as John tore into the lapels of Greers suit jacket. "How d you shut it down?" He asked. 

"Seriously? There's nothing in my lapel, John." Greer announced. John turned around to the three people standing behind him and motioned to his wife with his head, urging her out of the shadows and tucking her pocket knife into the palm of her hand. "Going to have your wife take a swing at me now? I will pay to see that." 

"You clearly don't get what you put me through." Delaney replied, twirling the blade in her fingers as Shaw patted him down for the so called kill switch she claimed he had hidden on his person. "Those kinds of things change a person. Lucky enough for you that I didn't allow it to change _me."_ Shaws eyes lit up as she ran her finger over a scar on his right wrist, thin and long as if created with a surgical scalpel. 

"There. It's under his skin." Her red rimmed eyes flickered up to Delaney. "You wanna dig it out or are you going to grant me the pleasure?" She lightly shook her head and tossed her the knife, grimacing as she tore open the skin of Greers inner forearm and began probing between his bones for the kill switch. "Whatever you're hiding is in between your radius and ulna." 

" _Miss Shaw!_ " Harold exclaimed loudly, limping deeper into the room only to be stopped by Delaney and Johns arms blocking him from moving any further. "Please, please Sameen-" Harold grimaced as Shaw held up a nearly concealed object in between her fingers that was dripping with blood onto the floor. 

"A USB drive." Shaw turned her head to Finch and extended her hand to give him the drive. "Didn't you say we were in a Faraday cage, Finch? Let's plug it in." 

***

After thorough investigation of the Kill Switch - an intricate string of code incorporated into Samaritan by Arthur Claypool- Finch had finally dug up enough information for them to assemble a plan. Sameen had grown incredibly irritable in the time it had taken Harold to break into the encryption. 

" _Sameen- Sameen, please let go!"_

Delaney rushed into the opposite room and stood behind Shaw, fingers firmly wrapped around her shoulders as she gently coaxed her away from the tech genius. Her eyes fell on Harold, who was staring at Sameen Shaw with such an expression of sorrow that it physically made her heart hurt to look at him. 

"I-I'm sorry." She murmured. "I just wanted to look at the drive." Root and John followed suit, standing far enough away to keep an eye on Greer but close in case Shaw were to lash out and hurt any of the members of their team. Harold managed a weak smile and softly squeezed her hands before tucking his laptop against his chest. 

"It's alright Miss Shaw. Like I said, you need some rest." Harold moved around Sameen and extended his hand to grip Delaneys wrist, pulling her in the direction of John who stood silently by the doorway that lead back into the Sanctuary. "I have no idea what just happened, and evidently neither does Miss Shaw. You two need to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything foolish." 

Delaney winked at Harold and brandished a mock salute. "Yes Captain." She replied softly, her gaze warm and concerned as Finch took Root up the stairs and vanished. The brunette turned back to face her husband, who with his tired eyes and weary smile did nothing less of make her heart swell. "You look like you could use some sleep yourself, Romeo. You look like crap." 

"Would it be wrong for me to say the same thing about you?" He retorted, laughter reverberating deep in his chest as she playfully hit his arm and made her way towards where Shaw sat on the staircase beside Greer. They took a seat on either side of her. "You have been through alot. We can take watch, you get some shut eye." 

Sameen lightly shook her head. "I won't sleep until I wipe that freaking AI off the face of the planet." She replied, silent as three heads snapped up towards the ceiling at the sound of heavy footsteps. Delaney swallowed thickly as her hand slipped to her weapon in the band of her jeans. "Hard soles. Flanking formation - three, maybe four ops." 

"Guess nap time is over." John muttered, shifting the slide of his handgun backward and flicking the safety off. "Del, you stay here for backup while she keeps Greer company. I'll be right back." Delaney nodded firmly as she stood to her feet and gripped her weapon tightly in her hands, oblivious to the rage coursing through Sameen Shaw as she stormed down the steps and directly in front of Greer as he cleared his throat, motioning for her to come to him. 

"I appreciate your commitment to your authenticity, my dear Sameen. But it's time to call of this charade, don't you think?" Greer pondered, his cold blue eyes flickering upward towards the steps where Delaney was straddling the railing and held her weapon in line with the center of his forehead. "You too, Mrs. Reese. You won't put a bullet in my head." 

"You don't look at her." Shaw growled, bending downward so she was eye to eye with the older man. "You look at _me._ She has nothing to do with this." Delaney smirked at Shaws defensive statement in order to protect her, something she would have never done before meeting her and John all those years before - when they'd been nothing but enemies sworn to partnership by means of an AI. Her eyes never left where Greer sat restrained in his chair. "I'd say you're lucky to be alive right now." 

"Yes I am, thanks to you. You've almost completed your mission." Greer commended. Shaws eyes widened as the temperature of the room suddenly dropped ten degrees, causing the roaring blood in her ears to turn to ice at his words. "Everything is proceeding exactly as we planned."

"Sameen? What is he talking about?" 

Shaw straightened her spine and took a step backward, sucking in a sharp breath as her heart crawled into her throat. She had thought that this was just another simulation that Samaritan had put her through as a futile attempt to draw her to their side - but a part of her had missed Team Machine so much that she'd allowed herself to believe this world was _real._

"I don't know, Del. We didn't plan anything." 

Greer quizzically rose an eyebrow. "Didn't we? It was your idea to plant the USB in my arm. Genius really, it is the kill switch. Only not the kind that your friends are expecting." Delaney jumped off of the railing and landed steadily on her feet as she rushed towards Sameen, who had collapsed at his feet with her fingers digging into her hair as if she were in immense pain. "I would not touch her, Mrs. Reese." 

Delaney swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in her throat as Sameen lifted her head, disoriented and in pain, her dark eyes glassy as she struggled to regain her strength. "You-" She rasped, gritting her teeth as another white hot flash broke through her memory. "You planted another chip!" 

_Run._

"We didn't need a chip. We broke you _months_ ago." 

_RUN._

"But-But I escaped!" Shaw snapped in response, oblivious to the fact that Delaney had vanished up the staircase and out of her sight. "Del-Delaney!" 

"That's because we let you escape. Now be a good girl and lead us to The Machine and the base of its operations, and then we can all go home." Shaw gasped as an invisible force lurched her body forwards, hands itching to wrap around Greers neck as he stared up at her, lips curled in a sneer. "We're already in your head. You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted too." 

That was the catch. Every fiber of her being wanted to murder the man in front of her, but there was something deep inside of Sameen Shaw that was compelling her to do the exact opposite. She had never allowed someone to control her before, so why would she let them have the upper hand inside her head?

_Your mind is not your own. This house is not your home._

"But you will have blood on your hands when you murder all of your friends." 

Almost in an instant, the unmistakable sound of a gun being fired rang in her ears, and Shaw stumbled backward into the wall as John Greer slumped in his seat with a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. 

***

John followed Shaw down the trafficked street in the middle of the City, beelining back to Finch who had already begun to break into the encryption of the USB he had been given. A part of him worried for the well being of his wife - who had disappeared without warning and had not informed him of her whereabouts. 

"Shaw, wait." John called out, stopping at the mouth of an alleyway as Sameen ambled deeper inside. "How did Greer know we were going to capture him?" Anxiety gnawed at her stomach as Shaw stopped short in her tracks and turned sharply on her heel to regard the man behind her. "He knew it. That's why he created a trap and planted the USB. Somebody warned him." 

At the opposite end of the alleyway stood a silhouetted figure, her body encased in darkness as amber eyes flickered between the two people standing in front of her, unable to see the outline of John clearly in her vision. Her finger was wrapped firmly around the trigger, prepared to fire at a moments notice. No worry, no anger, nothing. She had simply flipped the switch. 

_Betrayal._

_"_ What, you got something to say!? You better nut up and say it!" 

Johns voice fell as his gaze locked on Sameen. One of his partners, an ally, a family member. He didn't want to hurt her more then she'd already been hurt, much less take her life in order to save his own. Somewhere deep inside of Sameen Shaw was a bleeding heart that cared so deeply about her family members. 

She just didn't seem to have control of it. 

"Did you warn him?" 

" _Not a chance."_

Delaney stepped forward as Shaws neck tensed, her head dipping towards her chest and her eyes vacant of any emotion as Samaritan overtook her mind to do its will. John immediately noticed her behind Shaw and managed a weak nod; her cue to keep her distance as he attempted to break through to Sameen. ''You good?" 

"Yeah." She replied. "We gotta go. C'mon!" 

John slowly tilted his head to the side. "Something is wrong with you." He uttered. "We're not going back to The Machine until we talk this through and I can get my wife to properly look at you. Your mind.. it's not your own. Come with me and I'll even buy you a cup of coffee." 

It happened so much faster then she had expected. A piercing scream of rage broke past her lips as Delaney lunged outward at Sameen and knocked her to the ground, but not before she could fire a bullet into Johns heart. The Man In The Suit fell to the pavement without so much as a sound, his immaculate appearance soiled by the scarlet red blood pooling over his torso. 

_And all the people say_

_You can't wake up_

_This is not a dream_

"John? Sameen? Del? Are you three alright?!" Harold asked urgently. Delaney cursed under her breath as she pinned Sameen Shaw to the ground and threw her fist into the side of her face - on the verge of a hysterical breakdown as the skin broke beneath her fingers and immediately turned deep purple. "Delaney! What is going _on?_ " 

She couldn't hear Harolds frantic cry for help. All she saw in that moment of rage was nothing more then deep red as Shaw succumbed to her anger. It was so identical to her own that she did nothing to try and stop it. 

_You're part of a machine_

_You are not a human being_

''I don't know what happened." Delaney cried, standing to her feet and rushing towards John. "Samaritan ops that came out of nowhere.. too many for Sameen and I to handle." Her lips quivered as she knelt beside the broken body of her husband and rested her forehead against his collarbone in one quiet moment of vulnerability. "John's dead." 

The rest of the conversation was muted as Johns fingers wrapped around locks of her hair, lifting her chin high enough to see the color fade from his eyes. "I-" He rasped, unable to form a coherent sentence as tears dribbled down her cheeks and soaked her lips. "It wasn't-t your f-fault." 

_With your face all lit up_

_Living on a screen_

She reached for his hand limply hanging against her thigh and slid the Hebrew engraved band and wedding ring off of his fingers. Unclasping the pendant chain gifted to her by Mckenna, Delaney Reese kissed each ring and slid it on the chain; a token to those she had loved and lost. 

"Until we meet again, my beloved." 

_You're low on self esteem_

_So you run on gasoline_

Shaw wearily glanced up at Root from where she gripped the merry-go-round. She couldn't shake the looks that were flashing through her memory - Harolds guilt, Delaneys rage, Roots sorrow. All she had wanted to do was protect them and in turn she had done the exact opposite. "I can't do this anymore. I don't know who's controlling it." She whispered. 

_I think there's a fault in my code_

_These voices won't leave me alone_

Root softly shook her head, her oak curls hiding the fear in her eyes as she and Shaw exchanged looks of realization. Everything suddenly seemed so much darker and dreary - like the life had been sucked out of every place she stepped. No vibrancy, no laughter, no signs of life.. Nothing. 

"Controlling what, sweetie?" 

_"Me._ " Shaw replied. "I shot Reese and in return Delaney just kept punching me in the jaw. I left her alive. Don't know why." Horror passed across Roots face as Shaw parted her hair to reveal the deep purple and yellow bruise that had begun to spread along her jawbone. Tears filled her eyes as Shaw slowly brought her weapon up to line up with Roots forehead. "And now I'm going to kill you too." 

"So why haven't you?" Confusion flickered in her eyes, if only for a moment as Root took small steps towards her. "Because somewhere in your sociopathic heart, you know we belong together. We'll work through this but first I need to get you to safety. Get you back to Delaney so she can look at you-" 

_My heart is gold_

_But my hands are cold_

A broken smile turned Shaws lips upward as she blinked away tears. "That's just it! Nothing is safe! Do you know where we are? What they _did_ to me?! The torture.. I told you that I couldn't escape it." She shrieked hoarsely. "But when things got to be too bad, there was one place I'd go to in my mind. Here." Sameen swallowed thickly as she loosened her grip on her weapon. "With you. _You were my safe place._ But not anymore. I can't control myself. So the only thing I can control is this." 

Root suppressed a scream as Sameen pressed the barrel of her weapon to her head. 

_Are you deranged like me?_  
Are you strange like me?  
Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me? 

One squeeze was all it took for a bullet to leave the chamber and enter her head. One squeeze, one bullet, one way to end her life in a chain of times she'd already managed to do so. 6,741. 

"SAMEEN!" 

_This mind is not your own. This house is not your home._

Cold air rushed back into her lungs as a nearly comatose Sameen Shaw sprung back to life in the confines of her bed, wrists rubbed raw from her restraints as she solely focused on calming her breathing. The man beside her bed grimaced as he watched the simulation come to an end - her corpse lifeless in the arms of Root in the park as she sobbed into her hair now matted with her own blood. 

"Sir? She blew her brains out again." 

From the opposite side of the exam room window John Greer grimaced at the sight of the woman he had captured, who had relentlessly been manipulating each simulation she entered in order to keep the location of The Machine secured and safe. "It appears we still have a few wrinkles to iron out." He stated as he adjusted his crisp suit. 

"Good news. She waited an extra hour before she shot you.'' 

" _How uplifting."_

The medical personnel inside the exam room worked to reattach the heart monitor and pads to measure the brain waves Shaw emitted with every simulation. "Should we start over again, sir?" 

"Yes, start the simulation over again. We have all the time in the world, my dear Sameen." 

**Simulation 6,742 in Progress**

Every time she entered, the same thought raced through her mind. _Escape this place. Defend your family. Love them like they love you._

If only they knew what they meant to her aching heart. 


	60. The Dance We Never Had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So darling, save the last dance for me.

"Mrs. Reese, would you like to be greatly entertained?" Finch called out, interrupting her morning therapeutic exercises for her knee as Delaney turned to regard the tech-genius. They'd been given a new number earlier that morning and Harold had been adamant that John be the one to do the surveillance on her. "C'mere and watch this." 

_"Finch, I'm at the hotel. Mind telling me what I'm doing here?"_

Delaney slowly stood to her knees and brushed the dust off of her flexible jeans and adjusted her leather jacket as she walked towards the set of monitors on the other side of the station. The brunette lightly squeezed Harolds shoulders as she peered at the closest monitor where the hotel camera was carefully watching John through the eyes of The Machine. "We've received a new number although The Machine retains its whimsical sense of humor. This number belongs to a marriage license. So I'm afraid we must assume that the threat will surface at the wedding itself." 

" _So who are the happy couple?"_

"Phoebe Turner." Delaney replied as she took a seat next to Harold, pulling up the profile shots of their newest number and her closest family. "Harvard graduate and daughter of Kent Turner. She's an heiress to her fathers billion dollar racing empire. Can't say I'm surprised someone would want to off her with the amount of money this family constantly has rolling in." 

_"What about the groom?"_

Harold pursed his lips as he then proceeded to bring up the photograph they had of the groom. "Will O'Brien. He's a Boston college graduate. Will is a public defender. So I suppose it is reasonable to speculate that some members of the family may not actually want this wedding to happen. Until we determine who is victim or perpetrator we need to keep an eye on both. Phoebe is in Room 541." 

" _So what is she doing here?"_

Delaney smirked deviously when she realized what Harold had actually tricked John into attending. "Oh no." She whispered to him, low enough that John wouldn't be able to hear them through the commlink. "I've been waiting to see something like this since we enlisted. If I fall into a laughter induced coma, please don't pick me up off the floor. It'll _totally_ be worth it!" 

Harold attempted to halt his fit of laughter as he then proceeded to answer Johns question. "Her sister called the police." Delaney burst into hysterical laughter as John exchanged words with the male stripper before heading into the hotel room, thus blocking him from their view. It was a few moments after he'd entered that they heard him speak with a tone of annoyance through the commlink. 

" _I'm going to scold my wife for the rest of eternity."_ John snapped, oblivious to the grin of pure entertainment as Delaney kicked her feet up and set them on the desk. " _She better get punishment too, you know. I'm not the only one allowed to suffer."_

"Sorry John, but I need you at that wedding. Your wife has a job of her own." He tapped the inner part of his earpiece as Delaney quirked a perfectly curved eyebrow at her friend. "I know you hate it Mrs. Reese, but you're going to need a new outfit for the occasion. Lucky enough for you that Miss Morgan is still in town, because she is the only one who can remotely convince you to set foot inside a department store." 

"Did you actually call Zoe just for me to go shopping?" Delaney mused, shifting as her phone vibrated in her back pocket. An eager grin spread across her skin as she read the message that was on her home screen. The last time she'd seen Zoe was when Harold had been called in for unofficial jury duty under his Professor alias, and they'd been forced into teaching him the art of stalling. 

**_Zo: I'm outside. You're lucky I love you because I loathe Chinatown._ **

"I trust you'll be well taken care of under Miss Morgans care. She even offered to buy you the outfit you'd need for the wedding." Delaney jumped to her feet and waved over her shoulder at Harold before racing out of the Subway and stumbling out the door into the street. Zoe was sitting in front of the bodega in her most casual outfit, her eyebrow quirked at her closest friend as Delaney regained her breath and ambled across the street. 

"You look like you've seen better days." Zoe commented, gasping as she stood to her feet only to nearly be knocked over by the force of Delaneys hug. The older woman relaxed in her friends embrace as she wrapped her arms around her torso. "I already know this adorable boutique I get alot of my outfits from. I went in there yesterday and found this gorgeous dress that would look fantastic on you. Wanna go see it?" 

"Only if you buy me coffee." 

Their excursion lead them to a small boutique just inside Manhattan, the name **_Vivaldi Boutique_** written in bright gold lettering across the awning. There were small cafe tables outside the front door and the newest designers dresses inside the windows, ranging from deep reds to the brightest golds and silvers. The shop itself was mostly vacant of people, albeit the cashier who stood behind the counter doodling into a sketchbook. "Madeline!" Zoe called, grinning as the blonde womans head shot up out of alarm. "Do you have that dress I asked you to hold for me?" 

Madeline rushed out from behind the counter carrying a pine green dress enclosed in a garment bag. Green had never been her color, but the longer she stared at it, the more she fell in love. ( ** _AN: It's the dress in the photo for this chapter.)_** "Are you the one who's going to be wearing this?" Madeline asked eagerly, blue eyes lifting to meet her own. "Between you and I, you're one of the few people I think who can pull it off." Delaney opened the garment bag and allowed the fabric to slip through her fingers, sighing deeply as it ran across her skin. "You can go and try it on if you want. Everything is already paid for." 

The brunette turned around to face her friend, who only shooed her in the direction of the changing room. "We're on a tight schedule, Reese! I have to make you drop dead gorgeous for this wedding, you know! Hop to it!" 

***

The following morning they were on their way to the Turner Farm upstate, with Delaney in Harolds car and John on his own. She had purposefully asked to ride with her friend as opposed to her husband just to see the expression on Johns face whenever he saw the outfit and makeover Zoe had done on her earlier that morning at her apartment. 

"Invitations please." An older man spoke, ignoring the overwhelming chant of the protesters as Delaney dug into her black clutch and produced the invitations Finch had copied earlier that morning. She flashed a white smile at the man as he ushered them further down the road and behind John, who had just pulled to a stop in front of the house. 

" _Are you seeing these protesters Finch?"_

 _"_ We're right behind you, handsome." Delaney replied seductively, pulling down the overhead mirror and reapplying her faded lipstick. Harold smirked from the drivers seat as she pulled out a silver tube and spread it out over her lips, glittering a bold nude color before slipping it back into her bag. 

" _Be glad you're on the grooms side of the family. The father of the bride is getting death threats."_

Delaney gaped at the massive Colonial brick house that loomed in the distance of the Estate, the pillars glowing white as the sun reflected off of them. Multiple wedding guests were casually chatting with one another as they entered through the front door, leaving the multiple guards outside to direct the newcomers to parking spaces. 

Harold parked the car and ambled to the passenger side, smirking as Delaney slowly exited and steadied herself on the heels Zoe had picked out for her. Her amber eyes flickered beneath the lenses of her sunglasses until they made out John, who was staring at her with such an expression of shock she was sure his eyes were going to bulge out of his skull. Her grin widened as John swallowed the lump at the hollow of his throat, squirming uncomfortably in his tuxedo. 

"Well, if I'd known that showing this much skin in a dress I didn't even pick out would cause you to undress with me with your eyes, I should do it more often." She murmured as she passed John and entered the house. John cursed under his breath as he watched Delaney mingle with the other wedding attendees, flashing the smile that made him swoon and sipping from a champagne flute she'd snagged off of the bartender. 

"Beside the point that my wife will literally be the death of me, you have a nice ride." John pointed out as he jabbed his thumb at the station wagon. 

"With Uncle Ralphs pension for whiskey, I'm surprised he's even allowed to drive at all." Oblivious to just how well she was blending in, Delaney remained in the back of the main foyer with enough space to keep her eyes locked on Kent Turner, her fingers casually locked around her hip while the opposite hand held her champagne flute. She hadn't been to a real wedding since Samantha and Mark, and even then she hadn't worn anything like the outfit she was wearing now. The way that John looked at her, desired her.. It made her feel as if she were the only woman in the room. His penetrating gaze broke down to the depths of her soul, his touch like fire spreading through her blood as if to remind her that there was indeed a man who loved her as much as she loved him. 

After a rather short discussion about Kent Turners racing industry and the illegal drugging of his horses, she found herself fuming whenever a redheaded woman who was clearly intoxicated stumbled towards John, immediately setting him on edge at the way she threw herself at him. "Hey handsome, glad you could make it." She cooed, grinning widely as John managed a weak smile in return. 

"Well, I had a little trouble getting in because of the protesters." John replied calmly, eyes flickering to his peripheral vision to lock on Delaney as she sashayed past him, accidentally bumping Jenna in the shoulder. He knew her well enough to know that she was clearly jealous of the way the other woman threw herself at her spouse. 

"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've warned you. They've been here since I was a kid, and now they're getting ready to take us to trial next month." Her voice broke off as a devious grin spread across her cheeks. "And there I go with all the tequila talk! Do you want another drink?" 

"Sure." 

Delaney grimaced as Jenna pushed past her, oblivious to the daggers being stared into the back of her head. "That was by far the most repulsive thing I have seen in _years._ " Delaney jeered. "I swear I'll put that woman in her place-" 

"Focus on the matter at hand, Delaney." John replied, hoping his voice would be enough to calm her anger. "Let's get back to the point. Seems like the protesters have been after Kent Turner for years. I think they're about ready to make good on their threat to put him down." 

"I'm more inclined to think that someone in the Turner family wants to make sure that this wedding doesn't happen." Delaney remarked as she stared at the engagement photos on the table in the main foyer. Part of her had wished that they lived the kind of life to get something so sentimental in honor of their time together, but they'd never been given the luxury of true happiness. "If it does, Will gets half of Phoebes fortune." 

"Guess we should track down the bride and groom." 

***

" _Phoebe, people aren't perfect. Marriage isn't perfect. But this thing you and Will have, it's real honey."_

John managed a smile as he stared down at his phone, leaning against the wall as he listened to Karen utter the truth about the hardships that came with a marriage. Part of him wondered where Delaney was now and if she was gathering intel on Will's side of the family while Harold sneaked into the Library and set up a temporary work station. 

A small smile graced his face after his brief conversation with Maggie, his eyes scanning the newest message from Delaney as he made his way to meet both her and Harold in the Library. 

**_Juliet: I never knew rich people were so exhausting. Don't mind me being jealous over your... date. PS? She's totally not your type. ;)_ **

The Man In The Suit snickered as he quietly entered the Library where Delaney was casually gazing out the window onto the lawn while Harold simulated a conversation over his cellphone. "Afraid I'm going to have to take Pattys side on this one." He replied as his eyes flickered to meet his wives, her annoyance evident on her face as her tongue slid across her teeth; something she often did when she was irritated. "Oh, what got under your skin there gorgeous?" 

"Seeing women throw themselves at you _Detective."_ She replied haughtily, gripping his chin and pulling John in for a searing kiss. Despite the fact it only lasted for a moment John groaned low in his throat when she pulled away and lightly trailed her fingers over the stubble on his jawline. "That is my job and my job alone. I won't tolerate anyone else doing it." 

"If we can get back to the killer on the Estate!" Harold exclaimed, drawing the couple to the ex-billionaire in the chair beside them. "I have tapped into the security system only to find out that there are cameras all over the Estate." John extended his arms and pulled Delaney flush against his body, both pairs of eyes locked on the laptop Harold had connected to the security cameras. 

"Gotta say Harry, I'm liking the temporary headquarters." Delaney commended as she rested her head on Johns shoulder. It was not often that they were able to act as a couple and she was well aware that Jenna Turner was off drinking with her friends as opposed to spending time with her wedding date. Even with the countless men who had been whistling when she walked past or whispering suggestive comments, she never once batted an eye at them. Not when she was soulfully married to John Reese. 

John was the owner of her heart, soul, and mind - and she was the keeper of the keys to the broken heart he'd so desperately asked her to mend. 

"I like to travel with the essentials." Harold replied. 

"Do you still think the dad is the perp and the groom is the vic?" John asked. They had been watching Kent Turner take his third phone call of the day in a secluded hallway somewhere in the Estate; far from prying eyes and ears that would infiltrate his conversation. 

"It certainly seems that way. I accessed Becca's banking records and found an LLC registered to Kent Turner transferred ten thousand dollars into her account this morning. And no, it wasn't to kill Will. It was to _kiss him._ " Delaney snorted indignantly as the image changed to the camera overlooking the gardens where Phoebe was tightly locked in Wills embrace, her forehead resting against his own as they murmured unheard words to one another. 

"Looks like the wedding is back on boys." Delaney murmured as she turned her head just a fraction to brush her lips slowly against the stubble growing on Johns jaw. The three of them made a beeline for the largest room in the house; John and Delaney opting to sit beside one another while Harold sat with the other members of Wills family. 

Part of her was jealous over the perfection of a wedding that wasn't even hers. While she had adored Johns sentimentality when it came to planning her proposal, ever since she was a young girl she had always dreamed of the most beautiful wedding; with white lace and red lipstick and champagne and a honeymoon to any beach in the world. She dreamed of a life with her future husband who would never stop telling her just how truly loved and valued she was, or never ceased to make her feel like the most precious diamond in the midst of an overabundance of coals. 

Her gaze fell to her hand that had managed to rest on the edge of her knee, so close to John but still far enough away that no one would be able to tell they were in fact married to one another. She pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth as flashes of images ran through her memory; a nursery with a name embroidered in silver along the farthest wall, a cottage house in the country, and a man in a field of sunflowers playing with his baby girl. 

_What a life we could've had._

"Delaney, just how flexible are you in that dress?" John whispered urgently, pressing her clutch into her abdomen. Her head snapped over to meet his cerulean gaze as she struggled to form a coherent sentence, having been so lost in a dream that couldn't be fulfilled that it had taken her breath away. 

"V-Very." She stuttered, managing a weak smile as John softly rested his hand on top of her own. 

"Good. You go for the first wedding crasher, and I'll go for the second. They're armed... not protesters." He replied. The two of them split off to opposite sides of the room just as both of the intruders sprinted away as well, vanishing from their line of sight. Delaney turned around and cocked her head at John as his eyes frantically searched the room of wedding guests. 

" _Why send two assassins for one target?"_ Harold pondered. 

"To make sure they don't miss." 

" _In that case we can be sure they'll return to finish the job."_

_***_

"We need to find out more information on the protesters and their trial against Kent Turner if we are to find out his would be killers." Finch spun around in his chair to face his closest female friend besides Root, who was leaning against the doorway and tapping her foot impatiently. "Do you think you can handle that, Mrs. Reese? Detective Campbell would prove quite useful in this matter." 

"Can we not have one moment of peace in our lives?" She grumbled as she pulled her IPhone from her clutch, tapping in her unlock code and pulling up Kat's caller ID. John frowned as her eyes flickered between the two of them before settling on the ground, her lips pressed together in a thin line as she twirled a stray curl behind her ear. "When I found out I was coming to a wedding I went to all of this effort to make myself look stunning for my husband, and now I can't even be happy at said wedding. Why are we deprived of the most basic human emotion?" 

"And that would be?" 

Delaneys eyes darkened as she tilted her head to the right to press her phone against her shoulder. Harold had not seen such a pensive, solemn look on her face since the incident with John following the loss of Joss Carter. She had nearly lost herself in the months following the murder of their beloved Detective - turning to the hope of being able to bring John back from the brink in order to give herself a reason to keep living. 

He understood how she felt much more then she realized. They were all _exhausted_ from running. Running, hiding, fading until you're nothing more then the shell of who you were. So tired.. so without hope. 

" _Happiness."_

Root frowned from where she stood behind Maggie, camera in hand and confusion written across her face as Delaney stormed past her while muttering to Kat on the other side of the phone. "What's her problem?" She asked. Harold merely shrugged as he took the camera from her hands and began filtering through the photos for any sort of evidence as to if Maggie had captured photos of the wedding crashers. 

John turned to the opposite side of the Library as Root followed Harold out into the main banquet room, where the crowd was preparing to hear Uncle Ralph sing. He resisted the urge to smirk as he snatched the phone from Delaneys hand, an impromptu end to her phone call with Kat Campbell as he slid her phone into his tuxedo pocket and held his hands up in surrender. "I'm only doing my job here, ma'am. You're not getting your phone back until you tell me what has you in such a sour mood." 

Her eyes travel upward to meet his own. Even after everything they'd endured - all the loss, all the lives they saved.. John Reese still had this unwavering compassion for the innocents left in the world they were trying to save. He'd literally give his own life for complete strangers to know that there was still good out there in the world. 

Delaney allowed a sob to break past her lips as John slowly kissed her forehead, allowing his own to linger against her warm skin while her hands trembled in their place against his chest. "You have no idea how envious I am of all of this John." She said quietly, unable to meet his gaze. "Envious of people I don't even know. Envious of this life that someone else gets to live when all I've ever wanted was to run away and build a life, a _family_ , with you. I'm so tired of fighting a war we can't win." Her lungs deflated as she sank into his arms, her nose buried in the crook of his neck as his fingers wound through her hair. "I just want it to be over. I want an actual life in a place far away from New York. Somewhere where we can wipe our slates clean and live a life we deserve." 

John managed a small smile and tilted her chin upward to gaze into her amber eyes, slowly leaning in to brush his nose against her own. Her breath caught in her throat at the little space left between the two of them as a shiver ran down her spine, his hand making its way to rest on the curve of her hip. 

"You have one of the strongest hearts of anyone I know, Del. We've made it this far now.. Now we run through to the finish line. Break that ribbon, end Samaritan, save the world. _Stay with me forever._ I can't promise you that it'll be good, or happy, but I can promise you that it will be worth it."

John gripped her hand as he lead Delaney back into the main room beside Root, who was so awed at Harold singing from the stage that she completely missed the two of them standing on either side of her. Delaney lightly nudged Root in the side and motioned to the men behind her. "Looks like our wedding crasher brought friends." Root murmured. 

"These guys are way too clean cut to be protesters. They look more like former military to me." John replied quietly. 

"Someone's trying to frame the protesters, make it look like they're out to get the Turners." Delaney interjected, her fingers skimming the top of her clutch where she'd hidden her weapon earlier that morning per Zoe's request, given that it was small enough to fit inside. "Harry better sing louder. We've got alot of work to do." 

The sounds of fighting fell on deaf ears as Harold continued his song, interpreted by Uncle Ralph, to the wedding crowd. 

Root resisted the urge to grin as Delaney whipped around and slammed her high heel into the side of the perpetrators head, pushing him towards the table where Root managed to incapacitate his nearly unconscious state and stab him through the center of his hand. The man cried out in agony before slumping unconscious against the table. 

" _Del? Root? You got eyes on the third guy?"_

Delaney swept the excess makeup out from underneath her eyes and shook her head as she dusted off her dress. "No, but Root did successfully manage to trap the one we did catch. I didn't think an assassin would literally faint at the sight of his own blood. It's kind of comical." 

" _Hang on. I think I just found our target."_

"Which one of the Turners is it?" 

John pursed his lips in confusion as he stared down at the photo of Maggie that had been in the pocket of the man who now laid unconscious on the floor. " _None of them. It's Maggie, the wedding photographer. And we left her all alone."_

***

"There's no signs of Maggie on any of the surveillance feeds. How're you doing on your end, Mr. Reese?" John continued his trek through the backyard of the Estate, his weapon heavy in his tuxedo pants as he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of Maggie. While Root and John had gone in search of the wedding photographer, Delaney had managed to slip her spare pair of boots from the trunk of Harolds car and made her way to the stables. 

" _She couldn't have gone far, let's hope she's still on the grounds and that our missing assassin friends didn't find her."_

Delaney grinned widely at the black stallion that had begun to softly knicker at her presence. "Hi gorgeous. You don't know me, but I've ridden enough to know that you're a fun one." She whispered, oblivious to the conversation going on through the commlink about Maggies involvement with the Turner trial. "My mom used to take me for riding lessons in Rochester when I was a kid. I used to live for going bareback." 

" _Delaney! Care to input what's going on on your end?"_

The brunette blanched as she gripped the stallions mane, throwing herself onto its sturdy back before allowing herself to relax. "If they really want to get the job done and keep Maggie from testifying at the trial, they're going to do everything in their power to make sure that doesn't happen. Even going as far as deleting Maggie and the photos she's taken wouldn't be out of the question." 

" _I've found Maggie on the outskirts of the Estate. Unfortunately, so have the hit men. They're planning to take her off the grid."_

Delaney resisted the urge to grin as she slowly lead the horse out of the confines of Kent Turners stables. "Not for long. John, are you on it?" She asked as they emerged on steady ground, enough for her to take the speed up another gear. "I'm currently getting my riding shoes back." 

_"Did you steal a horse?!"_

"You better believe I did. Go find Maggie!" 

John forced Maggie to the ground after Karens initial confession to doping Don Juan, wincing as each of her guards were capped by stray bullets fired from behind the two of them. Three pairs of eyes flickered to the horse that had ridden into the area who was carrying Delaney, her knees locked against the creatures hips as she made circles around John and Maggie. "You're coming with me." John demanded as he gripped the oldest Turners sisters wrist. 

"You're a security guard for strippers. Are you _actually_ going to arrest me?" 

Maggies frightened gaze fell to Delaney as she leaned towards the photographer, her eyes bright as she extended a welcoming hand to help her onto the back of the horse. "Not tonight I'm not." John replied sharply. Karen rolled her eyes out of annoyance as his free hand moved to grip her other wrist. 

"You might as well. Weddings bore me." 

"Well, we aren't going to let you ruin your sisters big day." John remarked as he turned to the horse, where his wife was suppressing a smile as Maggie loosely wrapped her arms around her waist. "Delaney, take Maggie back to Root at the house. Make sure she gets a treat from the caterer." 

"Are you going to tell me who you are?!" Maggie exclaimed, laughing wildly as the two of them took off at a gallop down the massive slope that connected with the front of the Turner Mansion. Delaney grinned breathlessly as the wind blew through her hair, strands sticking to her face as her curls fell into gentle waves. The weight that normally fell onto her shoulders had dissipated into nothing more then what felt equivalent to the gentle caress of a feather. 

It was the most carefree, genuinely lighthearted expression she'd seen on herself in months. 

" _I'm the woman who saved your life. I was here to help, and you are very very welcome."_

***

"And now it's time for everyone to get on the floor for the last dance." 

John turned away from boding farewell to Maggie, his eyes landing on the doorway that lead into the main room. Delaney was standing there staring back at him, hair pulled to the side and eyes soft as she watched him amble towards her. "This is the happiest I've been in months, and I'd like to finish this night off right." She murmured, eyes glowing underneath the fairy lights strung around the room as she looked to John. "Dance with me." 

John gazed at her incredulously as she extended her hand. "This isn't even our wedding. We're in the middle of a war we can't win, and you want to dance?" He replied, heart sinking as her smile fell. John grimaced as he took her hand and lead her to the dance floor parallel to Root and Harold. "Why is this so important to you?" 

"Save the last dance for me, darling." She whispered, her lips barely grazing Johns ear as his grip tightened on her waist. Every waking moment he prayed that it wouldn't be the last time for him to touch her hips, gaze into her eyes, listen to her voice. He prayed so hard that he was nearly convinced that God had listened - because here they were, at a wedding, dancing as if it was their own. "Because we might not ever get to have our first." 

They reveled in the touch of each other as the melody slowly came to an end - before the music immediately changed to a faster tempo and drew the younger crowd out to the opposite side of the room. Delaney took a seat beside John as Harold and Root moved to sit down at the table, perplexed as to where he'd found a bottle of bourbon. "Karen and her hired guns are spending the night in the wine cellar, where I just happened to find some of the best bourbon around." 

"I'll drink to that." 

Four pairs of lonely eyes gazed at the multiple people around them, almost feeling as if they were in their own world. "Their world crashes tomorrow." Delaney said quietly as her lips curled over the rim of her glass. She had vowed herself to never go near another bottle due to the impending fear of relapsing - but her fear had ebbed into nothing more then an annoyance as she slowly sipped the bourbon in her hand. One step at a time. "But we can give them tonight." 

_In another part of New York, Sameen Shaw stood on a buildings rooftop where John Greer was motioning her to the very edge. Several feet away from her stood a young boy no older then eight, with sandy blonde hair swept across his calculating blue eyes that seemed to study her every movement. "Who-Who are you?"_

_The boy looked completely taken back at her question. "Your friend didn't mention me? We had a nice talk. She's what you'd consider.. pretty. Isn't she?" Horror filled Sameens face as realization dawned upon her._

_"You're speaking for it."_

_"That's right Sameen."_

_"So the field trip?" She gestured towards the Manhattan skyline that loomed in the distance behind her. "That was all your idea?"_

_"Of course."_

_"And you want me to join your team?"_

_"There is no other way." Samaritan replied. Shaw felt dread creep into her bones as she struggled to comprehend the complexity of the situation, unable to tear her eyes away from the young boy who had been chosen to speak for the enemy AI. "There is a great filter, Sameen. A bottle neck. Some scientists claim humanity has moved beyond it but I am here to tell you that is not the case. It is here in front of you. It is coming for you. You will destroy each other."_

_"Unless we entrust our fate to you?" She snapped. Tears blurred her eyes as Sameen swallowed the bile threatening to rise in her throat. "You know you're really good at talking, but you haven;t shown me any plans." As if to test her remark, the vessel to Samaritan held up a detonator in his fingers before slamming his thumb into the button and triggering a massive explosion on the once peaceful skyline._

_This was what it wanted to be - a King who ruled out of fear._

_"That was the Russian Consulate. Russia will blame the United States for not protecting its citizens and retaliate. One homemade bomb from terrorists would've sparked World War Three." Shaw gaped as multiple missiles erupted from the sky, breaking down the foundations of the skyscrapers and sending pieces of debris tumbling into the streets. If she listened closely enough, she could hear the unmistakable sound of civilians screaming as they died._

_"But-But it didn't." She murmured, her dark eyes flickering back to Samaritans vessel. "Because none of this is real."_

_"But it will be if you don't let me protect you from yourselves."_

Shaw inhaled sharply as her eyes snapped open to be greeted by the familiar white walls of her cell, multiple pads attached to her body as she struggled to regain clarity in her vision. Just as she had suspected, John Greer quietly stood by her bedside with his hands dug deep into his pockets. His cold blue eyes met hers before he decided to speak. 

"Have you had a change of heart yet, my dear Sameen?" 


	61. Better To Have Loved and Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then to have never loved at all.

_"Guys!" Root exclaimed, bursting through the front staircase of the Subway to greet the remaining members of her family. Delaney was stripping her weapon while John and Harold milled over the latest information gathered about Samaritan; three pairs of eyes turning to regard the brunette as she stood in front of them. "I found someone in the park."_

_Delaney snorted indignantly as she stood to her feet. "You sound like a child who just found a new friend. Who on Earth-" Her breathing hitched in her throat as Sameen Shaw appeared from behind the stairs, eyes dark and face gaunt as she cast a meek wave at the four of them inside the Subway. "Shaw?"_

_"Hi guys."_

Delaneys eyes snapped up to John as he handed her the spare gun he'd snatched off of one of the Samaritan operatives that had attempted to break into Professor Whistlers office on the college campus where he taught. After a rather exhilarating experience of reuniting with Sameen and receiving Harolds number, the members of Team Machine were on high alert for the next possible threat to the man that had brought them all together. 

In other words... this is where the climax actually begins. 

Carl Elias was milling through the morning paper when they burst into the Safehouse. "Harolds cover is blown." He announced as he zipped into the kitchen. Elias stood to his feet and eyed Delaney and Harold who were both standing parallel to him as they watched John in the dining room. 

"What about yours, Mrs. Reese?" The Kingpin asked, grinning widely when she shook her head. "Well, at least another good thing has happened to us yet again." 

"I'm seriously suggesting that the rest of you put some space between Elias and myself, John. It is not worth the risk, not to mention if you needed another hand that Miss Campbell at the 8th would be more then willing to accompany you on this particular endeavor." Delaney and Root turned towards the door as Shaw stepped inside and shut it behind her, nodding firmly to her partners as she slipped her weapon into her waistband. 

"Streets clear. You all weren't followed." 

Harolds eyes softened as he drank in the sight of a woman he had come to highly respect since their earliest days of working together. "Miss Shaw," He said softly. "It is good to see you home again." Shaw managed a small smile as a brief moment of silence ensued before Elias decided to ask the question that everyone else has already been thinking to begin with. 

"Harold, do you know how they found you?" 

Finch merely shrugged in response. "I have no idea." He replied quietly. He had finally begun to integrate himself into his cover identity granted to him by The Machine, pouring his time into grading collegiate term papers and socializing with students only for that to be torn away by Samaritan too. It would not be long before he found himself staring at an unnamed grave containing the body of one of the people he loved. 

" _I do._ " All eyes turned to Shaw as she folded her hands over her stomach. "Been back a week and your cover is already blown? You can't tell me that's just mere coincidence." Delaney stepped behind Root and into the dining room, kneeling down beside John to help in moving all of the largest guns they had onto the dining room table. 

"For all we know, this place could be blown too." He replied. "We need to take guns, ammo, cash, medical supplies, and get out of here as fast as possible. We're going on the offensive." John pulled the _Temporary Resolutions_ card from his coat pocket and held it up to the others. "Temporary Resolutions. Starting at that office and working right up their chain of command."

"They can't get to Finch if we get to them first." 

Kat Campbell gasped as the door to the Safehouse slid open only to find six different weapons trained on her and Lionel. "Wow. I guess we know where the party is now." She fanned her hands down towards the floor and breathed a sigh of relief as all six weapons were lowered at once. "Just so you all know, I love you too."

They rushed to gather all of the available supplies stocked inside the Safehouse, a tense silence filling the room until it was replaced by the unmistakable sounds of screeching SUV tires from the city street below. Delaney turned to Kat and tossed her the weapon that she had snatched from the Samaritan operative inside the college. "I'm going to go with John while Root and Shaw take out those ops on the street. Pick your poison, Campbell. Either way is good with me." 

Kats gaze slid from the two women by the door to the Reeses' before she jabbed a thumb at Root and Shaw. "I'll go with the sociopath and the lovesick puppy. Here's my question though, Glasses over here isn't exactly Indiana Jones. Where's he going to go?" 

As if on cue, Elias slowly slid his hand up into the air. "Harold can come with me." Delaney tilted her head as she locked eyes on the Kingpin. "I used to _be_ the all seeing eye. I already have a place in mind for the two of us where we are sure to be hidden. I'll take care of it." As the rest of them filed out into the hallway, Harold caught John and Delaney both by their wrist and pulled them towards him, eyes downcast as he pulled his lip between his teeth. 

"I wish you two wouldn't do this on my account." 

A small smile graced her lips as Delaney rested a hand on his shoulder. "We're just protecting a number, Harold. That's what you hired the two of us to do, remember?" 

***

"So, you two wanna tell me how this _all seeing eye_ thing doesn't see us coming?" Lionel questioned as the three of them stepped out into a white accented hallway several floors above the street, giving them a clear view of New York City and all its people. Delaney reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her NYPD shield. 

"It does." She replied. "We're three Homicide Detectives investigating a campus shooting." Lionel narrowed his eyes as he read the bold **Temporary Resolutions** written across the door in front of them. Quirking an eyebrow, he turned his head to acknowledge Delaney but instead found her reloading the clip on her weapon as if she was preparing to use it. "I'm regretting not bringing Kat with me. She's in the much deeper part of this then you are.. The part that's more likely to get her killed." 

"Kitty Kat got herself caught up in this just as much as I did. We're fully dedicated to the cause. She picked her poison.. Just happened to be takin' out a bunch of hit men. Speaking of," He gestured to the doors in front of them and frowned. "Doesn't sending a bunch of hit men sound more like a permanent resolution?" 

John rolled his eyes out of annoyance and motioned with his head. "Ready or not Lionel. Let us do the talking, you get the stuff we need." The three of them entered the office and strode up to the desk, where a petite brunette was furiously typing away at her laptop behind the main counter. Delaney felt a shudder roll down her spine at the smile she flashed the three of them. 

"Welcome to Temporary Resolutions. How can I help you today?" She asked. The three detectives flashed their shields before John chose to speak up. 

"Detective John and Delaney Riley from the NYPD." He gestured behind him with his hand to where Lionel stood. "Detective Fusco is accompanying us on an investigation of a campus shooting involving one of your employees. We need to see your employee files, if you could."

The clerk rolled her eyes and shrugged. "I'm afraid you're going to need a warrant for that." She replied casually, to which John leaned forward and cleared his throat. 

"Can we speak to your supervisor?" 

" _Are you sure you want to do that?"_

Delaney resisted the urge to facepalm as she leaned into the counter-top and set her chin down in the palm of her hand. "If he wasn't sure, we wouldn't be asking." She retorted, her eyes narrowing as the brunette in front of her recoiled at her sharp tongue. "I'm not going to ask again." 

The clerk lead them through a massive room filled with cubicles and employees rambling on to customers through their Bluetooth ear pieces, most conversations unheard to their ears as they were lead into a massive conference room. "Our supervisor will be with you shortly." She stated curtly before promptly slamming the door behind her. John turned around to face his wife and pressed his lips together as she met his gaze. 

"You had to go and be the abrasive one, didn't you? We were getting somewhere-" Delaney grimaced and jabbed her index finger into his chest. 

"Just.. shut up." She replied sharply, collapsing in one of the swivel chairs across from Lionel as she gazed upon the massive city on the other side of the glass. After a brief moment of silence she tilted her head upward towards John who was staring at the door with an expression similar to the one she wore. "John, Lionel.. what do you hear?" 

"Nothing." Lionel replied, hand shifting towards the weapons holster on his hip as the three of them made a beeline for the door. "That can't be good." John threw the door open and lead them into the office, where fifty empty cubicles now idly sat. "Fifty employees went packing in ten minutes? That's not normal." 

"So they sent in the big guns, and we're their targets." John replied as Delaney stepped behind him, fully prepared to lunge to the side as they recognized the silhouette of a Samaritan operative behind the glass on the other side of the office. "Get ready Lionel, chain of command is coming for us!" 

Gunfire rang in her ears as John sank to his side, weapon trained on the operatives as each one fell with multiple gunshots to the kneecaps. _Just as always._ As the two NYPD cops took out the remaining perpetrators, Delaney fished through the duffel bag John had brought into the office and produced a grenade. She grinned widely at John and Lionel before removing the pin and hurling it to the other side of the office. 

"Sorry boys, but looks like we're gonna have to wrap this up!" 

***

"See Harold, even old foxes have a few tricks." Elias remarked, leading Harold towards the car outside of the apartment building they had been temporarily holding up in. "My man William is going to take us out of the city." Harold allowed his eyes to flicker through the parking lot as the ex-Kingpin threw open the door only to be greeted by a corpse in the drivers side. 

" _Elias!"_

His breathing hitched in his throat as Elias straightened his posture, gunfire ringing in the air as multiple Samaritan operatives broke through the parking lot. Harold hissed as his hands met the searing metal of the car as he ducked only in time to witness one of the most tragic incidences that he'd been apart of since the loss of Joss Carter. 

A single Operative had come through the back of the building as opposed to the parking lot, managing a single glance to Elias before firing a bullet point blank into his head. 

Guilty weighing on his shoulders and terrified out of his mind, Harold collapsed to the ground and managed to touch Carl Elias' chest before being dragged into the car that was meant to take him to freedom, but was now taking him into captivity. Samaritan captivity. 

***

Her heart stopped when she heard the call over the radio. There was a dead body at the location that Elias had specifically said he would be watching over Harold. _A body meant that one of them had died._ John had driven them to the car scene and opted to leave her in the car, allowing her a brief moment to break as he and Lionel went to identify the body. 

"Please God." She pleaded, tears running down her face as she clasped her hands in prayer. She had only prayed a handful of times in her life - given that she hadn't been raised religiously it had never become a custom for her. "We have lost _so_ many people already.. I don't think I can take another funeral." She shifted her weight towards the window and rested her forehead against the glass to watch John and Lionel outside with several witnesses. "We have tried so hard to be better then who we used to be. I know I'm a sinner and I've made so many mistakes.. and I'm so sorry for it. I just want to be able to look back on this war and say that I went through not one, but two of them. We are the only people who can save this world from utter decimation. _I just need the strength to do it."_

John was the first to arrive back at the car. He shut the door behind him and turned to regard his wife, whose face was masked by her hair. Reaching outward he allowed his fingertips to graze the top of her hand and flashed a small smile as she slowly lifted her head to meet his concerned blue irises. 

"It's not Harold, Del." He whispered. "It's Elias. Looks like some Samaritan ops got ahold of him while Elias was trying to take him to safety. They already put an APB on the car with the license plates that the witnesses gave us. We're going to get him back." John inhaled sharply as she leaned forward and gently brushed her nose against his own, making no move to connect their lips but instead staring deep into his eyes that she had come to know so well. 

"You don't even believe that yourself yet, John." She replied, leaning back into the seat as Lionel moved to enter the passenger side. "Root, Kat and Shaw are on it. It's up to them now.. and it's up to The Machine whether or not she wants her creator to keep breathing." 

***

Harold just wanted everyone he cared about to stop dying. What once was happiness and laughter and success among the members of his Team was now infinite amounts of red, loss, tragedy, suffering. He vividly replayed the good memories in his head; the ones he'd been apart of. Shaws return, Delaneys healing process, Roots redemption, bring on Kat Campbell as a part of their team. He would always remember the good days - the ones where they'd saved the numbers and weren't forced to ponder the what ifs of the bodies that they'd left behind in their wake. 

Part of him knew that one or more of them wasn't going to survive the entirety of a war they couldn't win. 

He just hadn't expected it to be Root. Root - who had made it so far since they'd met. Root who had owned up to her mistakes and had rectified them. Root, his voice for his Machine, who loved him as if he was her brother. Root; self sacrificing, determined, stubborn.. a woman who'd loved and lost. 

_Root, who was now dead right beside him._

Finch winced as several officers took him from the battered vehicle, heart pounding against his chest as he was forced into a police cruiser and watched as the paramedics went to examine the body. He screwed his eyes tightly shut as the first head shook, followed by another and another. It had to be a dream - he was going to wake up soon. He _had_ to wake up..

But the cruelest part of this story? None of this was a dream. It was just good people trying to do right by those who needed them. 

His excursion lead him into a Precincts interrogation room - which one, he didn't know. Harold was more focused on keeping himself together instead of falling apart in front of the officer who was continuing to ramble on about his felonies and charges brought against him based on past evidence from outside the open door. 

_Keep it together Harold. Keep it together._

"Prints came back positive. Fifteen homicide scenes in the last five years. Who _is_ this guy?" He questioned. The cop parallel to him shook his head. 

"I don't know anymore then you do." He replied, both of them turning to gaze at the man inside the interrogation room. "But literally as soon as you ran him, we got a call from the Feds. They're sending someone over right now. Get this. Case on file from 1974." 

"What are the charges?" 

_"Treason."_

***

The night air was bitter as Delaney, Shaw, John and Kat stood at the edge of what felt like their twentieth crime scene; eyes peeled as the cops and detectives milled around the evidence and battered silver car that Shaw and Kat had seen Root drive off in with Harold. Red and blue lights flickered against the darkness of the sky; a sight none of them would ever forget as long as each heart kept beating. Each pair of eyes narrowed in on Lionel as he nodded to the cop he'd been speaking to before making his way over to them. 

"These guys are clueless." He started, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. "It's like a war zone out here. The only thing they really could tell me was that they pulled two people out of the car. One of them is currently in Custody down at Central, and the other one-" Delaney lightly squeezed Shaws hand as Lionel turned to her. "In critical condition at Saint Marys." 

"Samaritan won't give up. They're both in danger... We need to split up." John nodded to Kat who grimaced as she swiveled on her heel and stood beside her partner. "Shaw and Delaney come with me, you two give us updates on Root. Be careful." 

***

Harold willed himself to open his eyes as a Federal Agent took a seat across from him inside the interrogation room. "Harold. That's as far as we've gotten. _Harold._ That and the file number. Quite a few file numbers, in fact. We've got records and records of you going as far back as forty years ago, but no actual records." He managed a forced smile. "We digitized them all. Brad said all the files were taking up too much room. Me? I thought it was a bad idea. How many pieces of paper are going missing every once in a while? For the most part, they turned up again. But now it's all little bits in a hard drive. Who's to say when they disappear they're just gone. All of yours? They just went up in smoke and all I've got is a cover page to a file. An interview with an unnamed man in a retirement home talking about his son." Harolds eyes widened at the indiscreet mention of his father before they narrowed in again on the agent. "Lucky for me in treason cases that they keep the files. I've got an agent heading to Washington with a flashlight. It'll probably take him a couple of hours to dig yours up. Unless you want to save him the time." 

Harold made no move to respond to his question but instead countered with his own. "My friend, what happened to her?" He asked quietly, tone serious as his gaze remained on the wall. 

"Well, if you talk to me, I'll tell you about your friend." 

"I would like my phone call." He shot back. 

"Phone call?" The Agent snorted indignantly as he shook his head. "No, it doesn't work like that. You give us the name of an attorney and we;ll call them on your behalf. In the meantime you and I just wait, unless you have something to say to me." 

A deadly silence filled the room as Harold Finch began to speak every deprecating thought that had crossed into his mind since being on the front lines of Samaritans war.

 _"_ I have played by the rules for so long-"

_"Not from where I'm sitting."_

His eyes snapped upward. "No, not by _your_ rules." Harold snarled, tapping his fingers on the inside of his legs. "You work at the behest of a system so broken that you didn't even notice when it became corrupted at its core." Intrigued by his words, the agent blinked and leaned backward on the legs of his chair. "When I first broke your rules, a sitting President had authorized assassination squads in Laus and the head of the FBI had ordered his men, _you_ , to conduct illegal surveillance on his political rivals. Your rules have changed every time it was convenient for you. I was talking about _my_ rules. I have lived by those rules for so long and believed in them for so long; believed if you played by the right rules eventually you would win. But I was wrong, wasn't I?" Finch inhaled deeply as his eyes fluttered shut, desperate to block out the sights of each of his family members corpses that were waiting behind closed eyelids. "And now all the people I cared about are dead. Or will be dead soon enough, and we will be gone without a trace. So now I have to decide. Decide whether or not to let my friends _die,_ to let hope _die,_ to let the world be ground under your heel all because I play by my rules. I'm trying to decide.. I'm going to _kill_ you. But I'm trying to decide how far I'm willing to go, how many of my own rules I'm willing to break to get it done." 

"Look." The FBI agent said firmly. "You want to add threatening the life of a federal agent to your file I will drop those charges right now. No waiting is required." 

"I wasn't talking to you." 

Both men glanced upward at the security camera where Samaritan had heard every single word uttered of the man who had prophesied to be the one who decimated it. 

As Harold was lead back to his holding cell, the familiar blare of a payphone ringing emanated against the walls of the Precinct. The ex-billionaire turned to the phone and slowly pulled it off the hook, pressing the receiver against his ear as he waited for The Machine to rattle off its next number. 

But the number never came. 

"Can you hear me?" 

A sob threatened to break past his lips as relief flooded his body. " _Root?_ " He questioned softly. 

"No Harold. I chose a voice." The Machine replied. Harold inhaled a shuddering breath as his hazel eyes flickered down the Y shaped hallway before he decided to speak again. 

"This place. Can you get me out of it?" 

"You created me, Harold. I can do anything you want me to." She whispered. Almost as if on cue the lights of the Prison dimmed enough for him to hide in the cover of the shadows, darting past multiple police officers and into the brisk air of the fallen night. 

***

John grimaced as he abruptly ended his phone call with Lionel, turning to the women who stood behind him. With a single nod of his head both of them knew that Roots death had been confirmed. Their analog interface no longer stood with them. 

"We need to get to Finch." Shaw replied, eyes blank as Delaney ran her hands over her face. Emotions off, goal in place, AI to destroy. They did not have the luxury to grieve over the ones they lost. 

"I have a feeling that Finch isn't here anymore." John replied as he gazed upward at the Prison, where multiple guards and police officers had begun their manhunt for the escaped convicts who had fled when the power had been cut to the Prison itself. "Samaritan didn't want him dead, not at least if they can capture him." 

Delaney grimaced as she rocked on the heels of her boots. "Then why did his number come up?" She murmured, allowing her eyes to fall on Johns face as his cerulean irises were illuminated under the lights of the overhead helicopter. 

" _I think it was trying to warn us of what he might do to them."_


	62. .exe.

"It's been over a week since Finch and The Machine have both gone radio silent." John muttered, taping the most recent surveillance photo of Harold onto the transparent board as Sameen and Delaney watched from behind him. It had been a week since the tech genius had been spotted, having escaped from Federal custody with the aid of his Artificial Intelligence. 

"Maybe Samaritan caught up to them." Sameen suggested, shrugging in response as John cast a skeptical look at her. "I'm just being honest, man." Shaw glanced over her shoulder to Delaney who had been leaning against the Subway, her eyes cast down towards the floor as she tried to remain hidden from both their line of sights. This was not something she wanted to partake in. "Del? Any input here?" 

"I'm only going to say the same thing you've been thinking." Delaney replied simply. "Grab a few of their lackeys and see what we can squeeze out of them. I'm in the mood to hurt instead of help." John frowned at her statement and immediately shook his head. 

"No! You know better then that, Delaney. It's far too risky, and right now we can't afford any more losses. What we _need_ is a strategy." John remarked. Both women stared intently at him as he pondered through his options, but not thoroughly enough before Delaney spoke up again. 

"That was my strategy, wise guy. It was mine and Sameens. So when you think of a better one, give me a call. I am going-" She froze in her step as the familiar blare of the payphone rang against the walls of the Subway, ushering John and Sameen across the room at its beck and call to scrawl down their newest number. "Home. Someone has a fantastic sense of timing." 

After a more in depth study of their number, the three of them had come to terms that The Machine had raffled off John Greers number; bringing them to the conclusion that Finch had finally hit his breaking point and was making a move to kill Greer inside government territory in Washington, DC. 

_I think Finch is going to kill Greer. Or he's going to die trying._

The thought of it alone was enough to make her blood turn to ice in her veins. Ever since the moment their paths had crossed for the first time, Delaney had known by the way he carried himself and the fear lurking deep in his eyes when around firearms that Harold was a pacifist. He abhorred violence - and now with the loss of Root, he was going to turn to the very thing he loathed as a means to an end. 

Even if it meant his own end. 

"You know, I'm getting tired of all the running we're doing for our AI. She hasn't spoken to us in days.. Why are we chasing down Greer?!" Delaney exclaimed, flailing her arms at the empty building that she and Sameen had just come out of. 

"If we find Greer, we're sure to find Harold." John reassured, lightly squeezing her shoulder as the payphone across the street began to ring. John pressed the phone to his ear as he scrawled down what would've normally been a social security number given that was how The Machine had been programmed, but in coordinate form. "What is that? It's not the normal social security number." 

Delaney chewed on the end of the pen as she stared at the writing inside the journal. "That would be because it's not. It's geographical coordinates and my guess is that if we follow them, it'll lead us to whatever building Harold is about to walk into." 

"That building is Fort Meade." John murmured, stunned at how Harold had managed to gain access to such a highly defensive area in the State. "We'll deal with the rest of the data later. We need to move. Come on!" 

Harold breathed a sigh of relief as he passed through the retinal scanner inside the National Security Agency, managing a nod at the guard before disappearing behind rows of massive computers; all of which emanated a brilliant gold that gave him a sense of peace he had not felt in quite some time. His mission, his _purpose_ , was to install the Ice 9 virus into the system servers to hopefully bring Samaritan to its knees and destroy it once and for all. 

A soft breath escaped his lips as the virus was uploaded to the servers, but not before it required a voice activated password to finish the job. "I wish there was another way." He said quietly. "I'm sorry." 

Before his fingers could hit the keys, Harold was frozen by the sound of the slide on a handgun being cocked. He turned his head and cursed when he realized that Samaritan had indeed trapped him in on both sides. There was no escaping. 

" _Not another word, Mr. Finch."_

***

Delaney pressed her lips together in a thin line as she, Sameen and John emerged from the chute into a hallway nearly vacant with members dressed in military gear. "Del, Shaw.." John said quietly, eyes flickering between the folded piece of paper and the number **_409_** written on the wall. "This room number corresponds with the sequence that The Machine sent us in DC." 

Being the smallest of the three, Sameen squeezed past the couple and pulled a keycard from her pocket. "Then let us see what's behind door number one." The door swung open and allowed Delaney to step inside first, her eyes falling on the shelves that lined every possible area of the room. 

"This is the NSA evidence lockup." She replied as she turned her head over her shoulder to look at John, fingers skimming over the items on the shelves. "John, what was the last number in that sequence?" The former Marine glanced back down at the paper and recited the numbers **_80211._** "Specs for wireless communications. Wifi." 

"A modem?"

Shaw slipped past Delaney and pointed directly at the item they were looking for; a wireless modem tucked into the corner of a shelf on the opposite side of the room. "It's a wireless modem." She replied. "Why would The Machine point us to something we could find at Target?" Delaney shifted uncomfortably in the uniform she had stolen and huffed out of annoyance, fingers running through her hair as she retied it into a ponytail. 

Even when she had been deployed, the combat medics had always worn different uniforms then the soldiers. Most of the time it had consisted of a simple tee shirt and medical apron, with thin cargo pants for the hot weather and combat boots. It was why she was so accustomed to simplistic outfits - because they reminded her of why she was doing this to begin with. 

Delaney was pulled out of her thoughts at the sound of another voice. "Hey! What are you doing in here?!" He exclaimed. 

"Oh, you know.." Shaw replied casually. "We were just looking for some bad guys." She resisted the urge to break into laughter as the hostile moved to bark orders into his earpiece, only to be capped by Shaw who only smirked in response. "Look at that. Found one!" 

"We need to move _now._ " 

***

Greer led Harold into a large sealed room not far from his headquarters; windows occupying the greater length of the west wall with an added password encrypted door. The two of them entered it quietly, leaving the door open as another man moved to guard it. "I'm giving you the opportunity to save your Machine." He replied. "Which you so _clearly_ love and loves you in return." 

"For what purpose?" Harold questioned. 

"Samaritan considers your Machine a much needed peer for what promises to be a fantastic voyage." Greer remarked, motioning to the panels on the wall they now both stood parallel to. "This virus you uploaded is nothing but a tragic mistake. Tell me. After it's eradicated both ASI, what then?" 

Harold pondered his question for a moment before clearing his throat. "Then we go back to letting humanity determine its own fate." He spoke firmly, gaze unwavering as he stood tall in front of Samaritans father. Greer merely shook his head at the naivety displayed by his enemy. 

"Surely you aren't that naive. You know another ASI would soon arise." 

"Not for certain I don't, and neither do you-" 

"Proliferation is inevitable." Greer spat back. "So is progress." 

Finch could not believe the words coming from the other mans mouth. When he had come to create his Machine all those years ago, he had never even begun to anticipate the level of narrow minded thinking that would come along with it. When had humanity come so far as to allow themselves to be submissive to a higher power such as an Artificial Intelligence? Surely they wanted more free will then _none_ at all? 

"Progress?" Harold snapped. "Progress that eliminates free will and renders humanity irrelevant?" Realization hit him harden then he expected as Harold took a cautious step backwards. "You've gone mad." 

Outside the room a fellow officer rushed towards the guard in front of the glass, murmuring urgently under his breath before disappearing from their vision once again. Harold strained his ears to pick up any information in their conversation. 

" _We've got five men down."_

_"How many hostiles?"_

_"Three. Two women and a man."_

_"_ You are the problem." Harold stated. "Samaritans code was conceived by Arthur Claypool who was a good man. You have corrupted it!" 

"I didn't corrupt Samaritan any more then I can control it now." Greer said matter-of-factly. "That would be like the apes controlling us, Harold. It's impossible!" His shoulders sagged as he tilted his head towards the genius who stood before him. "Let go Harold. _Join us."_

If only. 

"Ceding control is not the answer. You will never know if Samaritan has any concern for human life or all humans lives. That is why I will not join you or ever allow our Machines to join." He said slowly, firmly, as if to convey the determination in his voice. As long as Harold was breathing.. His Machine would never be allies with Samaritan. 

_It's what Root would've wanted._

Greer chuckled beneath his breath and managed a small smile. "Thank you for answering my question." He replied. 

"Funny. It sounded like a demand." 

" _Not that question._ " Greer tutted. "Whether or not your Machine knows the password to deploy the Virus." Dread replaced the anger in his blood as Harolds eyes widened, chest constricting as Greer took a predatory step closer to him. "From the very beginning when you crippled your Machine, you denied it the same power you enjoy. Autonomy. It's always required your permission because it never had your trust. And you just said it! You wouldn't cede control. That tells Samaritan that only you know the password. For such a brilliant mind, you are a _terrible_ chess player which is why you've already lost." 

The door slammed shut. 

"Two pieces trapped on a board." 

Greer folded his hands against his abdomen and nodded. "Despite what you taught your Machine, the life of a pawn is not worth the same as the life of a Queen. This room is sound proof. No microphones, no way to activate the Virus." His hand slid up to his chest as Harolds breathing began to come in short, ragged gasps. _Asphyxiation._ _What a dull way to go. "_ Fire suppression system will suck the air from the room in seconds!" 

"But Samaritan will kill you too!" Harold cried. 

"The Queens sacrifice. So be it. _"_ Greer retorted. "Be at peace Harold! We have created a new world with our lives and now with our deaths? Samaritans survival is ensured! As is lives evolution." The two men met eyes before Greer spoke his final words that sent shivers from Harolds shoulders to the tips of his toes as he collapsed to his knees. 

" _History will revere us."_

***

"Y _ou've always known that John was par on time, just as Katherine is. Even if she is not a primary asset, her devotion will be her downfall. Just as it will be Johns."_

The Machine pulled Harold into an alternate reality of John Reeses life, one where he and Delaney had never been reunited through the Machine giving he and Harold both her and Zoe's number; a world where he had left Ordos the same night he'd received that fatal phone call from Jessica Arndt. 

" _He saved her._ _Jessica, the love of his life. That was all before Delaney had ever come back into the picture. Left with a broken heart and no answers to the whereabouts of his best friend, he left the CIA in time to confront Jessicas husband Peter. But while Reese's actions saved her? They also showed her a darkness she had never seen in him before. It terrified her."_

Harold was brought face to face with a thin brunette woman sobbing over the headstone of a grave. Her face was hidden by a veil of hair, nimble fingers digging into the fresh mound of dirt as she allowed herself to grieve. She was... she was so _different_ then when Harold had met her. As he stared upon the grave of John Reese, he was intently watching Delaney Chrysler gulp down large amounts of vodka and succumbing to the bliss that came with it. Part of him knew that the darkness inside her head brought upon by Johns death was numbed by the haze of the alcohol. 

"I'm sorry John." She sobbed. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you." 

_"After Jessica turned him away, he had nothing. No purpose. His body washed up on the banks of the East River a few months later."_

**091611 -** The identification of John Reese's grave. 

Harold straightened his spine and adjusted his glasses before finding the willpower to speak again. "Take me to them." 

***

" _Reeses? Miss Shaw? You're going to want to remove your ear wigs now."_

Delaney couldn't help but grin at the sound of Harolds voice, albeit being confused as to why he wanted them to remove their earpieces. Her finger reflexively wrapped around the cool metal of the trigger as she leaned against the wall, Shaw standing between her and John. "Why?!" 

" _I trust you can shoot in the dark!"_

Gunfire ran in her ears as multiple shots rang out in total darkness, only for each man to collapse to the ground now wounded by the bullets that had pierced their knee caps. Delaney huffed and emptied the clip on her handgun before reaching into her uniform to replace it with the spare. 

"Everyone will be on us in _seconds._ " John replied urgently, eyes focused as the three of them then moved to re-secure their earpieces into their ears. He found himself gazing over the two women in his peripheral vision before moving to stand. 

" _In that case, I suggest you keep moving."_

Shaw clenched her jaw and aimed her weapon higher. "Oh, that's easy for you to say." She replied, only to be cut off by the mechanical opening of the doors behind them. Delaney slipped her weapon back into her waistband and nearly sobbed at the sight of Harold in front of her, motioning for the three of them to quickly follow behind. 

"This way."

Harold continued leading them out of the building just as John began to fill him in on their end of the situation. "We've got Samaritan ops in droves. Safe bet that Greer is here." He informed, brow furrowing as Finch nodded firmly. 

"He is, but he's no longer a threat."

That caught all of their attention. Delaney sucked in a breath as Harold explained what had happened to Greer, which had nearly claimed his own life if it hadn't been for The Machine being able to feed itself through the inner wifi network they'd found in the evidence locker. 

"He sacrificed himself in an attempt to stop me.'' Harold remarked, drawing all three soldiers to a stop as they met his wide gaze. Delaney slowly tilted her head as she began to piece all the remaining parts of the puzzle together to form the whole picture. 

"From what?" Shaw asked. 

"From cleaning the slate." Harolds fingers flew up to his earpiece as he turned towards the connecting hallway of the room they were standing in. "The Machine has triggered a bomb threat. They're evacuating the building. If you turn right when you leave this room you'll see the South exit at the end of the corridor. There will be a car waiting there. Let it drive for you. You have two minutes." 

Johns eyes became dangerously dark as he pressed his lips together in a thin line. "We are _not_ leaving here without you." He stated firmly, gaze unwavering as Harold pivoted on his heel to meet it. 

"SIX O CLOCK!"

Delaney immediately dropped to her knees and slid across the floor to protect Harold as Shaw pulled him back against one of the generators, leaving John with no cover as the same assailant from their excursion on the ferry moved to the center of the room. The brunette pursed her lips and glanced down to the firearm in her hand before moving to press her hand against Sameens shoulder. 

_John groaned when he realized Delaney had won their competition; having four of the five bullets hit the bullseye. He'd missed by one bullet. "Oh look, I won. Again."_

_"You always were the better marksman anyway, but I'll beat you. One day." She grinned at the twinkle in his eyes as John glanced around the room, then pulled her into a sweet kiss._

_"_ Shaw, you cover Harold." She spoke firmly, drawing Sameen out of her focus and pulling her from the spot she'd been kneeling at. "I've got this." Sameen Shaw watched with awe written on her face as Delaney took her previous spot, eyes vacant and expression determined as she easily incapacitated the remaining Samaritan operatives in the room. 

Aim, fire, reload. 

_Aim, fire, reload._

Both women turned around to a blade protruding from the new corpse John had been brawling with a moment before. "Thanks for not allowing me to get killed, genius." Delaney retorted, smirking as John extended his hand for her to pull him to his feet. "Where'd Harry go?" 

Just as they'd expected, Harold had vanished right from underneath their noses. And now inside a building with Samaritan Operatives, unarmed and alone, their closest friend was about to make the biggest decision of his life. 

***

" _Both of the Reeses and Shaw have made it to safety."_

Harold breathed a sigh of relief as he continued to trek down the hallway, ignoring the personnel sprinting past him as he kept his gaze on the doors. "Thank you." He replied quietly. 

" _Are you okay Harry?"_

He had been thinking about this day since Samaritan had been born from darkness. A day where all would be lost, where consequences would be faced, a day where he'd have to bid a final goodbye to those he'd come to love. And just as it always was.. It would be his fault. His undoing. 

"Why did you show me those simulations?" 

" _I knew you were still unsure about deploying the virus."_ The Machine replied. " _Because of what it would mean for me. So I showed you a world without your Machine to help you with your decision. But it remains just that. Your decision."_

"But the world without you wasn't definitively better or worse then the one we currently inhabit. It was just.." His voice faded as his vision blurred again, causing him to slow his walk as Harold struggled to find the words. "Different." 

" _Are you sure Harold?"_

"I-I don't understand." 

Root- _The Machine_ slowly released a breath in his ear, sending pangs of guilt racing through his heart at the thought of Samantha Groves who was now buried six feet under. Who had died for _their_ cause. " _Well, there is one more simulation I can show you."_

It wasn't a moment later that he was staring back at the door, only having watched the simulation of Samaritans rise to power regardless of whether or not The Machine had been a part of it. "So Samaritan would've come to exist regardless." 

" _Yes, and it would've extended its invisible reach into every corner of society_. _Eliminating anyone who dare question its vision of the world because there would be no one to stand in its way."_

"Now I understand." He murmured, pausing in front of the door. The soles of his feet felt as if they had turned into lead, heavy laden and unbearable as he stood in front of the door that would lead him to the heart of Samaritan itself. 

" _What is it?"_

Harold swallowed the bile in his throat and allowed his eyes to flutter shut. "I promised you that I would never hurt you again."

" _I know, but I'm breaking this promise. You'll be helping to fulfill a much larger one."_ He managed a small smile and stepped into the room, slightly comforted by all of the computers around him until his eyes fell on the two screens parallel to the glass conference room. 

**Stop. Or you will kill your Creation.**

"I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that life, humanity, will endure whether or not my Machine exists. The same cannot be said of a world under your control." 

**Machine can serve a greater purpose.**

"My Machine? Her purpose has been _constant._ " He snapped. "To protect and save humanity. It's what she's doing right now." Harold bent over the nearest computer and pulled up the last menu he'd been on before his untimely capture by Greer, the **_Voice Activation Required_** flashing in front of his eyes. It all came down to a choice. 

**You cannot stop the inevitable.**

Harold took a step backward and stared at the screen. Sure, he had made plenty of wrong choices.. but he had made plenty of right choices too. Bringing Delaney Chrysler back from the brink and hiring her as an acolyte of his Machine had been a good choice - not only had it saved her, but it had also saved John. Watching the wonder inside of Katherine Campbells eyes as he explained the concept of his Machine and all it had done for humanity had been a good choice. Bringing together a family - _his family -_ had been the best choice of all.

" _Eight letters._ " The Machine coaxed. " _Your choice Harold."_

"Eight letters?" He furrowed his brow as realization dawned upon him, sending a wave of calm through his heart as he poised his fingers over top of the keys. Of course she had known. She always did. "You knew all along, didn't you?"

" _Maybe I know you better then yourself."_

With a single inhale, Harold uttered the voice activation code. "Dashwood." And watched as the words _Executing . / Ice-9.exe_ appeared on the screen in front of him. 

_"Now we can go."_

"Thank you." 

Behind him, the word **_Inevitable_** had frozen on the screens - a last reminder to what was coming before the screens began to glitch and faded into darkness. 


	63. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There is no ending. It's just the place where you stop the story." 
> 
> \- Frank Herbert

Dying. The slow, steady thrum of a heartbeat until there is nothing but silence. Dying with no hope, when every cause you've ever tried to fulfill finally comes to an abrupt end; like the clash of keys on a piano as a piece fades into.. nothing. 

_Can you hear me?_

Everything was dying. Or at least, it was trying to. 

_Can you hear me?_

A picture opens onto a vacant subway. Light doesn't exist down there, for the power has since shut off. There's a massive hole in the wall from where the subway car broke through, leaving nothing but empty tracks and an equally empty home. _Home._ Where a family had been born and had loved - had lost and had endured. 

_If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of me is the sound of my voice. I don't know if any of us made it. But let me tell you who we were, and how we **fought** back. _

This is the story of Team Machine,

And this is how it ends. 

***

_ New York City Police Department - Eighth Precinct _

Kat and Delaney stood side by side as they entered the Precinct behind John and Lionel, who took to leaning against one of the walls that faced away from the majority of cameras in the Precinct. "I gotta figure we're on the all seeings eyes radar." Lionel murmured. "You sure it's such a good idea for us to be here?" 

"No." John replied. "But we need help finding Finch." He extended his hand outward and caught the wrist of one of the nearest officers, pulling him in their direction and fishing the surveillance photo of Harold from his coat. "I need you to run a set of prints for me. Suspect was last seen in DC." 

"Sorry sir, system is down-" 

Delaney grimaced at the sight of their Captain who had taken the opportunity to emerge from his office. "Another off book case, Riley? You and your wife have been on sick leave for over a week. And you two, Campbell and Fusco.. I thought you two had vanished with that missing federal agent. I want all four of you in my office. _Now._ " 

Kat bit down hard on her tongue as she adjusted her posture, holding her middle finger out at her side as she quietly followed both of the Reeses and her partner into their Captains office. "What are we getting scolded for this time? Actually getting things done?" She hissed to Delaney, who merely snapped her fingers in response as their eyes flickered over to their Captain. 

"Do you two have any idea where Agent Larue even is? If you want to know what I think," He leaned forward on the heels of his hands and eyed the two women before gazing down the line to Riley and Fusco. "I think you're all wolves in sheep's clothing. Some are just better at hiding it then others. And in the case of Mr. Riley here, a bespoke suit. Reminded me of a vigilante we had a couple of years back, used to call him The Man In The Suit. His partner?" Cold eyes flickered over to Delaney who merely pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as he then pulled out a surveillance photo of her and John when they'd been working Caroline Turings case years before. "The Lady In Red. We got an anonymous tip. From now on, the only suits you two are going to be wearing is an orange jumpsuit. I hope orange is your color too, my Lady."

"You want to know what I think?" Delaney questioned, tapping her chin with the tip of her index finger. "I think that somewhere beneath that way too tight suit of yours is a heart that is literally waiting to break free of your rib cage. See, you don't know it.. but I can _see_ the terror lurking in your eyes. It's the perk of being a war medic. You get pretty accustomed to fear whenever you're literally piecing people back together."

"I want all of your guns and badges, now." As if on cue, their Captain pulled his firearm and waved it up and down the line. "No one needs to get hurt!" Delaney huffed and threw her hands up in annoyance, causing Kats lips to quirk upward in an amused smile. 

"You see?! I rest my case!" 

John lunged forward and wrapped his arm tightly around the other mans throat, slowly lowering him to the floor as his body went limp from the choke hold. From where he stood beside the other two women Fusco felt his jaw drop from both shock and disbelief. "Great, now I can kiss my pension goodbye!" He exclaimed, grumbling as Katherine clasped his shoulder and turned towards the front door of the office to open it. 

They were greeted with the receiving end of multiple firearms. 

" _Hands in the air! Nobody move!"_

Their excursion inside the Corrections van lead them to an abandoned dock across from a warehouse that sat on the water. John turned to Delaney and shrugged before speaking as the van doors opened. "Well, I guess we're not going to Rikers." He commented, half expecting to be met with snickering from the two women but was instead greeted by silence. 

"End of the line my friends." A thin officer with no hair to his head, blonde facial hair and mousy features announced as he helped to force the two women to the ground while his accomplices took care of the two men. "We get ourselves a nice big bonus if we take you out." 

"I always knew you'd be the end of me." Lionel muttered. Kat and Delaney turned to face one another from the cement, bones aching and eyes glimmering underneath the overcast sky as the older brunette struggled to find the words she needed to convey her thoughts. 

"It's alright Del. I kind of knew this was coming whenever I signed up for it." Kat said quietly. Delaney bit down hard enough on her lip that the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, causing a silent groan to break past her lips as she spat it onto the cement. "Someone once told me that my devotion would be my downfall." 

Delaney let out a broken scream as the stock of one of the officers weapon collided with the base of her skull, causing John to nearly go ballistic as black spots danced in her vision. "As much as I am for women being women, I'm tired of the sentimentality. You four are full of it today." Kat moved to grip her upper forearm as Delaney used her hands to steady herself on the concrete, chest heaving as her lungs worked at full capacity to regain the air they'd lost at the harsh blow. 

The next thing she knew, multiple gunshots broke out over the Harbor and the four cops who had been prepared to end each of their lives fell to the ground in a heap. 

"Detectives!" A familiar voice called out. John ambled forward to wrap his arms underneath his wives as the four Detectives stood to their feet only to be greeted by Harold Finch; dressed in his newest suit with an accompanying umbrella to follow. He looked.. strangely calm, given the circumstances. "I trust you're.. mostly okay?" 

Delaney allowed her head to fall limp against Johns shoulder. ''Other then the impending concussion, absolutely. What a douche bag." She groaned, eyes blurry with unshed tears as John wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her steady. 

"Well Harold, I've gotta say that I'm a tiny bit impressed." Kat commended, allowing the tech genius to unlock her handcuffs before moving on to Lionel. "Did you hire a sniper or something? I thought violence wasn't your forte." 

"No, not me, Miss Campbell." Harold replied. "I believe Thornhill Industries has been on somewhat of a hiring spree as of recently." 

"I guess I owe you one." John called out, hands moving up her sides to grip Delaneys shoulders as she attempted to refocus her blurred vision on Harold in front of her. "We all do. Thought me and the missus could pay you back all at once." 

"Don't hold out on me, otherwise the two of you are going to miss your chance." Harold urged. "Are you ready?" Swallowing the bile threatening to rise in her throat, Delaney slowly straightened her spine and rested her hand on top of Johns that sat on her shoulder. 

"For what?" 

" _To end this."_

_ Present Day _

_"Are you there? Are you still with me?"_

From where he sat collapsed on the roof of the building, a wounded Harold Finch forced himself to open his eyes to the blinding sunlight that greeted him. "Oh.'' He said in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at the image in front of him. He had to be dying - because Root was dead - and here she was standing in front of him. "You stopped talking to me. I thought you were gone." 

" _I'm sorry. My core systems are beginning to fail."_

"It was rather a morbid conversation." He replied. 

" _You'll have to forgive me for having it on my mind. Besides... it's what you built me for."_ The Machine said softly, amber eyes lifting to gaze along the tops of the roofs that made up the city. " _To watch people die."_

Harold pursed his lips out of confusion. "I thought I had built you to prevent that." He questioned, trembling hand pressing harder against the gunshot wound that mutilated his side. 

" _Yes, but first I had to learn why people die. Fifty six million people die in this world every year, and I was there with all of them. Trying to understand how they got to this place, if anything could've stopped it. You didn't give me the capacity for despair, Harry. I had to make it for myself. There were so many people I couldn't help. After a while.. I came to appreciate it. The beauty of it. Human life is ephemeral which makes it precious. But still it bothered me. So much death, so much of it senseless. Nothing seemed to answer the question.. and then I heard something. I don't remember where, but it was something that made sense of it to me._ " Harold let out a sharp hiss as he stood to his feet and leaned back against the generator box behind him. 

"The suspense is killing me," He retorted. "In addition to the gunshot wound." 

" _I don't remember."_ She confessed. " _Everyone dies alone.. and then something else."_

Harold let out a string of laughter from where he stood, feet barely grounded to the rooftop as a wave of pain rippled through his body. "That's so perfect. You've learned the secret of life, and you've forgotten it?" 

" _I'll try to remember. Two minutes Harold."_

_ Monday, 5:28 PM _

Delaney leaned against John as she, Fusco, Finch and Kat made their way to the bottom of the staircase that lead into the heart of the Subway. "Hey Kitty Kat, you mind telling me where we are?" He asked. The young woman grinned widely and extended her hand as Harold pulled the gate open. 

"You told me you wanted to know the truth, Lionel." Kat replied. "You're gonna have to get it from the guy who invented the thing." Lionels eyes fell to Harold in a questioning glance, waiting for an explanation as the tech genius cleared his throat. 

"Detective Fusco, meet The Machine." He announced. Lionel gazed upon the Subway car in disbelief before turning to face his allies who stood behind him in anticipation for his reaction. 

"Kat, you knew all this time-" He grunted as he playfully smacked his partners arm, to which she gaped in mock horror. "And you didn't think to tell me?! I knew these guys were crazy, but this is a whole new next level nuts!" Kat pressed her lips together as Sameen emerged from the subway car and managed a firm nod to her partners. 

"It's about time." She murmured. "Glad you could join us Finch." Shaw extended her arms towards John, motioning for him to hand Delaney over to the only other doctor on their team. ''Let me take care of her. Enough painkiller and she'll be good as new within the hour." 

"Good!" Delaney cried as John slowly guided her to Sameen, hands wrapped around her hips to keep her from falling. "My head has been pounding since that idiot slammed his gun into the bottom of my skull. Dose me up on painkillers so I can get back into this fight." 

Shaw lead Delaney into the car where they'd been keeping a stash of medical supplies, leaving Kat to ask the question that had been running through her head since she'd joined John and Delaney earlier that morning. "So, are we going to bust some heads open or what?" She asked. 

"I wish it were that simple, Miss Campbell." Harold said quietly. "Ice 9 virus has had a global impact." 

"Hey Finch!" Shaw exclaimed, pushing the swivel chair to the door of the car as she simultaneously held the briefcase in her hand. "Maybe this can help." Finch tilted his head as he took the briefcase from Sameen. "The Machine asked me to give you a copy of her core code." 

"To do what?" 

Shaw shrugged in response as she tipped the bottle of painkillers into Delaneys palm, producing four pills before slipping it back into the Subway car. "She hasn't told me yet." 

"I think I can hazard a guess." Harold replied. "Samaritan has created a backup copy of itself, kept in an air-gap server where the virus can't reach it. Miss Shaw, you and Detective Fusco stay here and protect the Machine from Samaritans men. Miss Campbell, John and myself will see to the destruction of Samaritans copy." 

"Oh, no no no no." Delaney tutted, wagging her finger at her best friend and husband as she stood to her feet. "I have been waiting since the start of this to help be the one to finish it. I've fought in worse conditions then a freaking concussion, you three. There is no way you're going to bench me at the climax of the story." 

Harold looked to John for confirmation as he slowly exhaled, gazing over his wife one final time before she managed to stand to her feet. "Fine," John replied firmly. "But at the first sign of you on the verge of passing out, I'm benching you. No exceptions. I'm not having you die today." 

"Why do you think I'm tagging along in the first place?" Delaney retorted as she gripped his chin with her thumb and index finger. "It's because I'm not having _you_ die today either, Mr. Reese." 

"So-" Harold interjected, eyes flickering to rest on the ground. He hadn't been a fan of goodbyes before the war had started, and now with death being nearly inevitable, it made him sick to believe that one or more of them wasn't going to make it. "Good luck." 

And with that he was gone. 

Shaws gaze remained unwavering as she cleared her throat and folded her hands against her abdomen. "I guess Finch isn't a fan of sappy goodbyes either." Delaney tilted her head as she narrowed her eyes at the ex-assassin, who almost looked to have the beginning of tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Well, you heard the man. We're expecting company. Let's show them a good time." 

John managed a weak smile as he clasped Lionels shoulder. "Try not to die." He said quietly, only to elicit a grin from Fusco as he nodded in response. 

"Yeah, I love you too." 

***

Later on that night, the four of them found themselves in one of the nations most impenetrable gold vaults; the Federal Reserve. It had taken false threatening of the lives of civilians and a pointless evacuation to get to where they were now, nearly out of ammo and stuck in the vault. 

"I can infect this copy of Samaritan with the same Ice 9 virus." Harold muttered, moving to connect multiple cables from his laptop to one of the core servers that lined the inside of the Vault. Delaney remained poised at the door with her weapon focused on the main door of the Vault while Harold and Kat worked furiously. "I was not aware you too were skilled with computers, Miss Campbell." 

"Only a few of them." Kat said jokingly. "Some are kinder then others. I'm just trying to finish what needs to be done." The young woman adjusted her stance as the weight of her weapon registered in her waistband. "How long is this going to take?" 

"Should only be a moment. You're here for the extra hand-" Harolds sentence abruptly halted as he recognized a Samaritan operative in the door of the Vault. "But Mr. and Mrs. Reese over there are going to be busy, and so are you!" Before she could even react, Kat ducked to the side just in time for a rogue bullet to be fired into the room and directly penetrate the soft flesh underneath Harolds suit coat. 

" _Harry!"_

His vision blurred as crimson leaked through his fingers. "You three-" He grit his teeth as fingers flew across the keys of his laptop. "You three have to keep going!" Harold struggled to work through the ringing in his ears as Delaney and John fought for their own survival, leaving Katherine alone as protection for the tech genius. 

" _How's it going Finch?"_

"Oh, you know. The shooting is a little distracting." 

" _Well, I won't be shooting much longer."_ John replied. Harold froze at the sound of an empty clip before John released a slew of profanities under his breath. " _I'm out. Del?"_

"Sorry gorgeous." Delaney replied, her breathing uneven as she had just come out of an altercation with another Samaritan op who had attempted and nearly succeeded in slitting her throat. Her eyes widened as a different operative had John nearly pinned over the rack of gold bars, but not before one came colliding with the side of his head and sent him to the floor unconscious. 

"Midas touch." 

The two of them continued to gather the remaining weapons on the floor and made their way back into the heart of the vault. "Are you done Finch?" Delaney asked as she tapped the inner part of her earpiece. "We're on a bit of a clock here." 

"I've uploaded the virus, but it appears that Samaritan is attempting to transmit parts of its code over the fiberoptic lines." Kat peered over Delaneys shoulder and wrinkled her nose at the massive strings of numbers flying across the screen. "I'm intercepting them and infecting each with the Ice 9-"

**_Interception failed_ **

Kat felt her breathing catch in her chest as her grip on Delaneys shoulder tightened. Glancing down at her cellphone, she hid it behind the small of her best friends back as she read over the newest text message sent from the same **unknown** number that had been talking to her over the past couple of months. 

**From: Unknown**

**You know what this means. You have been preparing for it. Now it is time to act on your preparations.**

"Oh no." Harold breathed in alarm. "It appears that a compressed version has escaped." Delaney pursed her lips in thought as the two women turned towards the phone, unable to ask the question running through their minds as Harold moved to answer it. 

" _Samaritan has uploaded a copy of itself to a building in Midtown which only has one defining characteristic."_ The Machine murmured into Harolds ear. " _A torus antenna._ _"_

 _"_ Samaritan means to upload its copy to a satellite." Finch said quietly. The other three members of Team Machine were blissfully oblivious to the pensive expression on Kat Campbells face as she reopened her phone and brought up her messages between her and Iris that had spanned over the past two days. Her older sister had been pestering her with questions about Johns work, what she did when she was with both of the Reeses, and why she couldn't tell her anything. It had driven the two of them apart - quite possibly for good. 

**_To: Iris_ **

**_I'm so sorry._ **

" _A Russian satellite in a Molniva orbit."_

"Then it can return to Earth unharmed by the Virus." Harold said quietly. This was it - his moment - the moment he'd been waiting for since it began. _The time to end it._

" _The satellite will pass above us in 18 minutes._ " Root, The Machine, said quietly. (By the way, you can call her whatever you want. She really doesn't have a preference.) _"You need to send my copy."_

"The last copy." 

" _We need to be sure that Samaritan is destroyed."_ She said firmly. " _Once and for all."_ Kat tilted her head as she slipped her phone back into her pocket, ignoring the final desperate message from Iris as her gaze fell upon the tremor in Harolds hands. 

"But you already fought it in the simulations, and you never won!" He fought back hard against his creation, his child, his greatest treasure. As much as he loved her he had never wanted to be the one to murder her. She'd done so much good for humanity - one final act to save them from oblivion- and it was by ending her own life. 

" _This time I don't have the option of losing. There is one other thing. After Samaritan uploads its copy to the satellite, it's going to destroy the antenna so no one can reach it."_

Harold allowed his eyes to flutter shut as he thickly swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He had half expected John to be eavesdropping on their conversation but was only met with the sad cerulean eyes of Katherine Campbell staring back at him. "Destroy it how?" 

" _It set a course for a cruise missile. I'm afraid whoever uploads my copy won't make it back alive."_

Harold abruptly ended the conversation and set the phone back on the receiver before turning to the two women and John. "I need you to gather all of these weapons." He urged before turning sharply on his heel and disappearing from their sight. 

Kat froze as her phone vibrated. 

**From: Unknown**

**You know very well the kind of sacrifices that both John and Delaney will be willing to make in exchange for Harold to live. It will take everything you have to draw the two of them away from the rooftop, Katherine.**

**"** John-" Delaney warned, brushing past her friend as she and her husband emerged in the front of the Vault just as Harold was fastening the door shut. "Harold, tell me what on _Earth_ do you think you're doing?" 

"I'm sorry, Del. John." Harold inhaled sharply as he lifted his head to regard the two people he held dearest to his own heart. "John, when I hired you I had known you were going to be a great employee." Delaney felt her heart sink as reality hit her; this was his version of a final goodbye. "I had never anticipated that you would become such a good friend! And Del, sweet Del.. when we found you, you were a raging alcoholic who was taking out threats to your best friend. Look at you now." His eyes swept up and down her body. "The best of wives and best of women." 

"You-" Delaney interjected, closing her eyes as her fingers wrapped around the bars of the door. "You go on that rooftop, you're not making it down alone." 

"I don't intend to." He replied. "I'm afraid this is where our partnership ends." Harold stepped away from the door and took one final glance at the couple and Kat Campbell before feigning a weak smile. "Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Reese." Delaney let out a frustrated scream as she pounded her hands against the bars, oblivious to the numbing sensation spreading through her fingers until her knuckles had split open from the impact. 

"Finch wait-" John yelled over the sound of angry screams. "Harold! Harold, don't do this- _Harold!"_

And then there was nothing but darkness. 

Kat watched with sadness written across her face as the couple in front of her allowed their walls to fall, even if it was for only a moment, to console one another about the impending loss of their friend. Not one word was spoken as Delaney sunk into Johns embrace, his face burrowed in the crook of her neck as he slowly tightened his hold on her. It had been fairly clear when she'd met them - but now it was even more evident as she watched the two most self sacrificial people she knew depend on one another. 

They were ready to die. Had _been_ ready to die. 

All she wanted was to give them the life they deserved. The life Delaney clearly yearned for. The wildflowers and the baby and the husband sleeping in her lap. 

_**(AN: quotes are not mine, I just combined them)**_ " The soldier, above all other people, prays for peace, for he must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war." She whispered softly, tracing circles on the inside of her wrist and leaning her head back against the wall. John and Delaney had not moved from their embrace of one another, but the only sound she could hear other then her own voice was the gentle lyrics to a song she did not recognize. "And while the brave may not live forever, the cautious do not live at all."

_I am a soldier. I fight where I am told, and I win where I fight._

_***_

He hadn't realized how comforting the warmth of sunshine was against his pale skin until Harold was standing on the rooftop. Minutes away from both his death and that of his creation - and he was more then prepared to waste away with her. "The building's been evacuated?" 

" _Yes. We have one minute until the satellite is in range Harry, and then.. three more minutes until-"_

"Until it's over." Harold said quietly to himself. He took a brief moment to allow it to sink in - the final sounds he'd hear before the missile overtook him. Songs of birds soaring through the air, the hundreds of people milling around the city streets, the laughter, the _life._ "Did you remember your little pearl of wisdom?" 

" _No."_ The Machine replied. " _All of these memories.. I'm getting lost in them."_

Harold tipped his chin upward to the very top of the building and frowned. "Wait a minute, are you sure this is the right place?" His heart slowly sank as blue eyes flickered among the dishes at the top of the building, none of which fit that of the one that he would have to upload the Machine to. 

" _Yes, this is where you're supposed to be."_

"No-" Harold fought back. "None of these dishes are capable of transmitting to a Molniya orbit! This-This is the wrong building." He slowly turned back towards the open sky, lips parted to speak but interrupted by the familiar voices in his earpiece. 

'' _Right building Finch. For you."_

**(AN: I would start listening to this song now - Fare Thee Well)**

Dread replaced the confusion in his veins as Harold cupped his hand over his eyes, recognizing the forms of Delaney and John on the rooftop opposite to him. "John? Del? What are you doing?!" He exclaimed.

"We and The Machine have had a long standing arrangement for quite some time now. A deal. _"_ John replied. Delaney knelt down and pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, curls brushing the back of her neck. Her leather jacket cling to her like a second skin, the soft flesh of her back and sides slick with sweat as the sun was rising higher into the sky. She inhaled deeply and pressed two fingers to the inside of her wrist. Her pulse was erratic and thready - the signs of fear. "We wanted to pay you back all at once. That's the way I like it."

The two of them had lost Kat on the way over here, but had never expected to be seeing her again on the same rooftop that their bodies would fall on together. She had never wanted to live a life without John and had been ready to sacrifice herself for so long, but to what end? To only be forgotten when they saved the world? 

_"I told you it's supposed to be me alone!"_

_"_ Sorry Harry, but a deal's a deal. You knew as well as I do that those two weren't going to let you die." 

Time seemed to slow down as John moved towards the briefcase; a scarlet red dart with a feather tip flying through the air before making its mark in the side of his neck. The Man In The Suit blanched as he and Delaney whipped around to come face to face with Kat Campbell, who had completely changed her attire and was now sporting a look they had once known all too well - _release._ "Well, now it's me, myself and I." Kat replied, grimacing as John stumbled for balance. "Only way I knew how to take down the guy was with a heavy duty tranquilizer. Might wanna catch him before he falls, Del." 

Delaney rushed forward and tapped on the inside of her earpiece to silence Harolds frantic cries. "What are you _doing,_ Katherine?!" She exclaimed, eyes wide as John fell limp against her body. Kat sprinted past the two of them and moved towards the briefcase as she immediately set to work on the upload of the Machines copy to the satellite in orbit. "This wasn't your fight, it never has been! You-" 

"I have been wondering what my purpose on this Earth was for so long that I almost forgot what it'd felt like to finally find it." Kat began, eyes softening as **Targeting Satellite** appeared on the screen in front of her. "I've known about you and John since I met Carter on the force. She used to go on and on about how much she admired the two of you, always willing to die for each other and people you barely knew." Dark hair veiled half of her face as Kat lifted her head to meet the terrified whiskey colored eyes staring back at her. "But haven't you wondered what it'd be like to have someone do it for _you?_ " 

Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes as John murmured something into her ear. "You-" She rasped as her throat began to close with the overwhelming sense of grief that she had not allowed herself to feel since.. since Mckenna. Kat had not been in her life long, but she had come to consider her one of the dearest friends she knew. "You want to sacrifice yourself for John and I, and for what?" 

"Someone once told me my devotion to the cause would be my downfall. This is it." Kat pulled her weapon out of her waistband and fired at the operative who had burst onto the roof behind her and John. "I served my time on the Police Force. I saved lives, and now it's my turn to save yours. You want to know what my cause had been from the start of working with Team Machine?" She slammed her finger against the enter key and flipped her head upward, clearing her hair from her vision. "It's okay. I've been preparing myself for this moment for months. Iris distanced herself from me because I wouldn't tell her about what Fusco and I did with you guys. I am at _peace_ with this choice."

Her heart slammed against the framework of her rib cage as Johns body weight fell onto her shoulders, forcing her to use the remaining strength in her legs and back as Delaney Reese gazed upon Kat Campbell. She had only been with them for a little under a year, and here she was completely willing to risk her life in order to give her friends what she believed they had deserved. 

With a final raise of her head, Delaney performed the same salute she had given at Mckennas grave every time she returned to it, eyes shining with tears and shoulders trembling with Johns weight. The stories her children would listen to at night would be of a fearless woman who had become her greatest friend among a group of the most unlikely people, one who would make the ultimate sacrifice in order to save the world. 

She didn't have to speak to convey how she felt. One look into the cerulean eyes staring back at her was enough.

"I wanted to be the person to give you the life you want, Delaney Reese. Now go on, go and be a hero. Get your husband out of here." 

"Kat-" 

" _DO IT!"_

**Upload: Complete**

Delaney rushed towards the staircase with John on her shoulders as Kat fired at every possible operative in her way, bodies falling left and right as she struggled with the weight of her guilt and the dead weight of her husband. " _D-Delaney! John-n!"_

Harold. 

A startled cry broke past her lips as she reached the bottom of the staircase with Johns arms still hung over her neck. "Harold." She whispered, eyes red rimmed with hot tears as the ex-soldier removed the earpiece from her ear and smashed it beneath the heel of her boot. "I'll be back for you. We both will." 

On the opposing rooftop, Harold watched in disbelief as John and Delaneys figures were replaced with that of Kat Campbell. "Why-What is Miss Campbell doing on that roof? This was never her fight, she was _innocent!"_ He snapped, briefcase long discarded and gunshot wound numb as his mind struggled to comprehend the complexity of the situation. Both of the Reeses were probably on the rooftop with her, either dead.. or quite near it. He hadn't seen where their bodies had fallen. 

" _I'm nearly gone Harry._ " The Machine confessed. " _There's only thirty seconds left before-_ " 

"No." 

He was not going to accept that three members of his family were all going to die at the same time. And all of them for him. " _You've gotta go. You're ruining the Big Three's plans by dying up here. And Harry.._ " Her voice faded away only for a brief moment. " _I remembered. It was a police officer who had to notify a family of a death. The 35th notification he'd had to make over the years. And afterwards.. He said something that I remembered. Sure, everyone dies alone. But if you mean something to someone.. help someone or love someone, if even a single person remembers you, then maybe you never really die at all."_

Delaney let out a guttural sob as she reached the street, her bones screaming as her lungs sucked in as much oxygen as possible. She ground her teeth as pain radiated through her head due to the painkillers wearing off, mouth filled with blood as tears made their way down her pale cheeks. In a span of a week she had lost Root, nearly had John and herself killed _again_ , watched Harold sink into himself as he accepted his fate, and now Kat Campbell was dying to give her the life she so desperately believed that the two of them deserved. 

Stand up. 

_"I know I've made mistakes. Many mistakes. But we helped people. It was through me that Delaney Chrysler Reese was brought back to New York after the op in London that had gone horribly wrong. I directed Zoe Morgan to a destitute ex-soldier who needed a purpose and it was through her that she was brought to John. You yourself got to watch what even a flicker of happiness in Johns life come to life in front of your very eyes. These people.. they were your family."_

Take a deep breath. 

" _They loved you just as much as I do."_

And keep walking. 

" _We made something beautiful, but even beauty fades away. Goodbye Harold."_

Harold Finch turned to the camera above the door. "Goodbye." 

_If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of me is the sound of my voice. I was built to predict people. but to predict them you have to truly understand them. So I began by breaking their lives down into moments. Trying to find the connections, things that explained why they did what they did._

Ten year old Iris Campbell knew there was always something different about her sister Katherine whenever they had adopted her from the safehaven house of the local hospital. She knew nothing about her life, who she was, where she came from, what legacy she had to fulfill. By the age of six, Kat Campbell was adamant to know just who _she_ was as a person. 

"Sissy?" Kat said quietly, tucking herself into her oldest sisters arm as they lounged in the hammock, eyes cast upward towards the canvas of stars above them. "Do you ever wonder what it's like?" 

"What what is like, Kat?" 

"To know who you are?" 

_And what I found was, the moment that often mattered the most.. the moment where you found out who they truly were, was often their last one._

Kat Campbell felt to the rooftop in a heap, body mutilated with multiple gunshot wounds and a weak smile spread across her face as four Samaritan operatives now surrounded her on all sides with weapons aimed to kill. "The final moment. Thanks to all who had a part of it, but I'm afraid this is where we get off." She cast her eyes towards the sky and kissed the palm of her hand before extending it to the clouds. "Here's to all the survivors." 

Delaney had made it halfway up the block from the building when the missile collided with the side of the building. Johns grip completely slipped from her body as the two of them were thrown into the air. Screams pierced the air like shattering glass as Delaney fell unconscious against the hood of the car she'd been thrown into; succumbing to the exhaustion in her veins as her thoughts fell onto Johns whereabouts. 

_John._

***

 _If you can hear this, you're alone. The only thing left of me is the sound of my voice._  


A picture opens onto a vacant subway. Light doesn't exist down there, for the power has since shut off. There's a massive hole in the wall from where the subway car broke through, leaving nothing but empty tracks and an equally empty home. _Home._ Where a family had been born and had loved - had lost and had endured. 

In the corner, a computer monitor is brought to life, running through the core data taken from a Russian Satellite.

_I don't know if any of us made it. Did we win? Did we lose? I don't know. But either way.. it's over._

On the opposite side of the room where research was once done and footage mulled over, notes taken and laughter shared, two more monitors are brought to life with the new data that has been collected. 

_So let me tell you who we were. Let me tell you who you are._

If anyone was there to smile for the accomplishment that had been made by the upload of The Machine, someone would've. What once was dead had now been brought back to life - a new duplicate - but without an admin to give her orders. 

_Someone once asked me if I had learned anything from it all. So let me tell you what I learned. May seem a bit redundant, but you need to know it. I learned everyone dies alone. If you mean something to someone, helped or loved someone.. if even a single person remembers you.._

In one of the city parks, Grace Hendricks dropped her paint and sprinted into the arms of a man she loved who she had long been waiting to return home to her. 

_Then maybe you never really die._

On the city streets, Sameen Shaw wrapped her fingers around the ringing phone and pulled it off the receiver, lips turning upward in a eager smile as the new Machine rattled off another social security number. 

_And maybe this isn't the end at all._

In Rochester, New York.. a brunette woman racked with grief pulled her stolen car into the driveway of a house she had come to know very well as a young woman; before the world had stolen what was left of her purity and innocence. War had hardened her just as it had hardened her husband. 

Her beautiful dark hair was matted with both her blood and his, leather jacket torn and frayed from the impact of the blast that had nearly claimed their lives. Her whiskey colored irises were red rimmed and her eyelids heavy from lack of sleep, the pain of her concussion nothing more then an ache in her temple as she pulled her husband from the car and trudged up to the porch. 

Her bloodied knuckles pounded against the wooden door weakly. 

"Katie, I swear if this is you coming to cancel on me again-" 

Samantha Chrysler threw open the door of her family cottage, having just urged her father out for the night with his granddaughter since he was visiting from his newest home in Vermont, only to be greeted by the sight of the same woman she'd seen in the bodega in New York City only a few days earlier. "I'm not canceling on you," Delaney Reese said weakly, clearing her throat as her older sister stared at her with disbelief. "I'm an ex-war medic who served in Iraq and Afghanistan. I am married to the man you see here, and we are both gravely injured." Her eyes lifted just high enough to meet the petrified greens in front of her. "My name is Delaney Anne Chrysler Reese. I'm a survivor, I'm a wife, and I am _desperately_ in need of your help." 


	64. Epilogue

_Baby we built this house  
On memories  
Take my picture now  
Shake it til you see it  
And when your fantasies  
Become your legacy  
Promise me a place  
In your house of memories _

_\-------------------------------------------_

_Samantha emerged from the kitchen with a basin of warm water and spare clothing from her bedroom as she handed the supplies off to her sister, who had been tending to her wounded husband since he'd woken up in a daze on her sofa. "All this time," She said quietly, unsure of where to put her trembling hands. "All this time, you've been alive. You weren't even there when we buried Mom-"  
  
"Believe me, Sam." Delaney replied softly, dragging the sponge over Johns face as he loosely held her free hand in his own. "I came, I saw, I went. I was there for her last moments when the two of you had temporarily left the hospital. Mom died knowing that I continued to fight on like I always have." Delaney sighed deeply as she wrung out the blood soaked sponge in the water, her eyes narrowing as deep scarlet tainted the liquid, rendering it no longer clear. "I'll tell you everything. I will. But for now.. now I have to-"  
  
"Samantha Chrysler!" A new, firm masculine voice rang out. Delaney visibly froze in her spot at the unmistakable voice of her father, who apparently had just returned to his family home from his day with his granddaughter. "Care to tell me why you haven't been answering any of my phone calls?" Philip Chrysler entered the room with his granddaughter Marissa, completely swept away by the sight in front of him.   
  
"Dad, before you say anything-" Samantha interjected, half of her body poised in front of her petrified sister. "She got here right after you left earlier with her husband John. They're injured and need a place to stay." Philip crossed the room in two long strides and cupped his youngest daughters chin with his calloused fingers, eyes blurry as he slowly lifted her head to meet the amber eyes he'd found so captivating upon the first moment she'd opened them.   
  
"Hello Daddy." Delaney murmured, sobbing as her father immediately enveloped her in his well toned arms. Every thing she'd been feeling since the rooftop dissipated at her first embrace with him since before she'd gone into the CIA. The anger, the grief, the hatred, the pain of losing everyone she'd loved. Being with her family again made it easier to carry the weight of her mistakes. "Everything I did-Everything I've done-"   
  
"Was all done in the service of your country, darling. No one faults you for that." Philip said as he allowed his fingers to thread through her hair. Delaney sniffled as he pried himself away from her and took a step backwards, emerald eyes flickering between his daughters and the unconscious man who occupied the sofa. "I'm sure you have plenty to tell us, but right now it's time for me to kiss my grandchild goodnight. You should tend to your husband in the meantime-"  
  
"John." Delaney replied, managing a weak smile as John slowly began to return to consciousness. "His name is John." _  
  
***  
Warm air blew through the opened windows of the cottage they'd bought in Cooperstown as Delaney Reese slowly made her way through the parallel rooms on the first floor. She basked in the sunlight that was just beginning to appear over the horizon, the sweet smell of honeysuckle filling her nostrils as she slowly began to wake. John had been adamant to start fresh in a place where no one would know them, a place where they could raise their daughter without having to worry about impending threats to either of them.   
  
A place he could gain back the memories he'd lost.  
  
"My dear Claire." She whispered, gently tracing the shape of her daughters cheek as she laid nestled against her breast. "I was always wondering if I would ever have the opportunity to meet you, you know. Living a life like Daddy and I did.. we were never guaranteed a happy ending. But we got out.. and we got away. Mommy had to take care of Daddy for a very long time, you see. Daddy hit his head very hard and lost some of his memories."   
  
Delaney quietly opened the front door of their home and ventured down the front steps, her toes curling into the damp grass as she gazed out at the field of golden wildflowers to the east. A tall, broad shouldered, muscular man stood with his back to her, cerulean eyes cast towards the sunrise as he flipped through the journal tucked in his hands.   
  
"Daddy was very angry when he could not remember the people we had loved. Your aunt Root and Shaw," Her throat closed up at the mention of the two women, one of which had been deceased for over a year and the other who had fallen off the map after the destruction of Samaritan. "His best friend Harold, who would've been your favorite Uncle if he knew we were both still alive. They were the closest thing we had to family in the days following the war. We.." Delaney inhaled sharply and tilted her backwards to blink away the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "We loved them very deeply. Our family, that precious little pocket of the world where we were all happy, that was ours. You know?"   
  
John glanced down at one of the newer entries he'd come across. He hadn't completely understood why she'd chosen to document their time with _Harold Finch_ and _The Machine_ , but as the year had gone by, he found himself incredibly grateful for the stories.  
  
Delaney claimed he had severe amnesia brought upon by the blast that was supposed to have killed them. It was almost as if the event was so traumatic that his brain had specifically locked away the last year of his time working for The Machine. There had been nights where the two of them had stayed awake so she could attempt to help him recollect his memories, but most of the time he had just curled into her and listened to her weave a story about a remarkable woman named Kat Campbell.

He thumbed through the journal entry to the very last page, where she'd scribbled down the last events of Team Machine. The night following their arrival to the Chrysler family home.

_November 16th, 2015_

_Well... if I'm writing this now, you can finally take a deep breath. Somehow, we made it. Somehow we got out, and by some miracle of miracles, we survived. I don't know what happened to Shaw or Fusco. I didn't see Harold flee from the roof. I just know that a remarkable woman gave her life in order for me to have mine._

_John woke up this morning for the first time since we got to the house. He was fairly disoriented, kept asking questions about where we were and what happened. Why I was so distressed and continually on the verge of a hysterical breakdown. My diagnosis? The impact of the blast gave him a dose of severe amnesia. After I managed to get the two of us cleaned up and all wounds stitched and bandaged, I took him into my old bedroom and brought up particular topics to see all he'd forgotten._

_He couldn't remember Roots death, the destruction of Samaritan, Shaw's return from Greer.. none of it. It's almost as if he was so traumatized by the whole endeavor that his brain had locked away the memories of our victory over Samaritan. We now can live in peace knowing that we did everything in our power to do the right thing. One day I'll tell him everything from my own lips. Tell him of the people we saved, the ones we loved, the ones we buried._

_Here's to the survivors._

_"_ John," Delaney said quietly, watching as he tucked the journal into his coat before turning to greet his baby girl and wife. "You know things like these take time, right? You're not the first case of amnesia I've seen. Even if it has been nearly a year since it happened.. This isn't something you can just snap back in place. You need time to heal. We both do." 

The former soldier sighed deeply and gently cupped her face in his hands, fingers threading through her hair as he allowed his lips to linger against her forehead. There was no sound but the silence until young Claire slowly opened her eyes, greeted by the image of her mother smiling at her father with such a look of adoration she was sure that even at her young age, she'd never forget it. 

"I want to remember. I want to _see_ them." John said quietly, his voice barely audible as he took his daughter into his arms. He allowed his fingertips to gently feel the warmth of his daughters skin as she stared at him in amazement, blue eyes nearly mirroring his own. Delaney nodded and took a deep breath, eyes flickering over the sunrise before she turned back to the house. 

"Well, I guess now is as good of a time as any." 

***

_New York City_

As much as she had despised New York when she had lived in it, Delaney could not help the smile on her face as she drove into inner Manhattan. Just as it had been when she and John had left a year previously, the traffic was horrendous and congested, but it put no damper on the people chattering eagerly about their daily lives as thousands of humans traveled on foot down the streets of the city. 

Humanity never ceased to amaze her. 

Turning into Washington Square Park where Grace Hendricks had once lived, she pulled her car to the side and put it in park, eyeing the cooing baby girl in the back seat. Delaney glanced in the mirror and took a deep breath as she carefully exited the car, balancing the baby carrier on her arm as she slowly made her way to Grace's last known address. Quietly padding up the stairs she curled her fingers and prepared to knock on the door but found that her entire body had frozen at the thought. 

_What if he hates you?_

Before she could even knock, someone had thrown the door open and she was greeted with a pair of stunning blue eyes that she had seen only a handful of times before. Grace Hendricks stared back at her with her hand resting against her swollen stomach, blue eyes wide as her lips parted in awe. Harold had told her about the missile - and he had also told her about the deaths of his best friends. 

"Harold, honey?" The redhead called out, drawing her husbands attention away from the meal he was cooking over the stove. Harold Finch pushed his glasses up his nose and wiped his hands on the nearest towel, confused as to why Grace had not invited their guest into the house. "You may want to take this one yourself." 

"Why-" The future father and once tech genius froze at the sight in front of him, eyes wide as he took in the woman who stood in his doorway. The last time he had seen her was the day he'd given up that life for _good_ , living with the guilt of John, Kat _and_ Delaneys deaths on his conscience. He hadn't seen her leave the roof, and he certainly hadn't known she was alive. "D-Delaney?"

"Awe, I'm flattered." She mused. "Harry still continues to get sentimental over his supposedly dead friends." Harolds eyes fell to the baby carrier on her arm where a brown haired, blue eyed little girl was staring up at him with amazement. "Forgive my appalling lack of manners. Harold, this is Claire Katherine Reese." Delaney was sure that his heart was on the verge of crawling its way out of his throat whenever he suddenly attempted to speak but no sound had come from his mouth. 

" _Reese?"_

"She's mine and Johns daughter. That's why I'm here." Delaney replied. "I can tell you everything on the way back to our home in Cooperstown, but I have an amnesiac husband who wants to remember his best friends and the mission he embarked on."

***

Their drive back to Cooperstown felt like it was longer then four hours, but Harold didn't fail to continue to ask questions during the ride back to their cottage. He asked about the day Samaritan died, how they'd managed to escape, Kats valiant sacrifice, their life afterwards, Johns condition. The hardest of his questions to answer was how she'd been forced to watch one of her closest friends die and not be able to do anything about it. 

"I lived with that guilt for a very long time. Thinking the two of you had died on that roof, the two people who mattered most to me, it nearly ate me alive. I came looking for Grace not a day later and found myself pouring it all out on her. She has much stronger shoulders then I had originally anticipated." Harold replied quietly, his eyes cast on the long stretch of country road they were traveling down. "And what of John?"

"John remembers everything up until the night we were forced on the run after the electrical substation. Roots death, Shaws return, Kat.." Delaney reflexively curled her fingers tighter around the steering wheel as she flicked her turn signal on, her eyes softening at the sight of their cottage in the distance. "I'd been writing down significant events for a while in an old leather bound journal my father gave me when I enlisted, so I gave it to him in hopes it would jog his memory." 

Sameen Shaw grinned widely from where she sat in the backseat. After some thorough searching and phone calls, the two of them had found the ex-assassin at the Precinct with Lionel; mulling over the information on one of their newest numbers who was also a witness in a homicide. When she'd seen the two of them for the first time in a year, it brought upon a smile so wide Delaney was sure she was dreaming. 

So of course, she'd asked her to come along. It wouldn't have been a family gathering if Sameen wasn't present. 

"And Claire?" Sameen questioned, running her index finger over the light brown hair on the baby's head as Delaney pulled the car in park. Harold took that moment to examine the terrain - they were far enough away from the City but close enough to town that they could catch a bus back to the City. The house was on an overlooking ridge of Cooperstown - the small village looming in the distance, spread out far beneath them. It was secluded and private. He was sure John loved it. 

"Oh Harry," Delaney breathed as she pulled young Claire from the back seat. As if on cue, the baby girl allowed her eyes to flutter open sleepily and gaze upon the two strangers who stood in front of her mother. "I drove all the way to Rochester after Samaritan.. We stayed at my family home before my father so kindly bought us this cottage. It was his 'late' wedding present. When I told John I was pregnant with Claire.. I didn't think so much happiness was possible on one persons face. It was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen." Her amber eyes flickered up to the house where she could just barely see her husbands muscular form in the kitchen, most likely preparing whatever they were to have for dinner. "He's such a good father." 

Shaw shifted awkwardly on the heels of her feet. "So, do we just go in?" Delaney shook her head and steadied Claire's carrier on her arm. If she were to take Harold and Sameen inside at the same time, John was sure to stress himself out with remembering the last years events. It already pained him enough to not remember what happened to Root. 

"No. I'll tell him you're out here, and I'll let him come out on his own accord." Delaney said quietly. Shaw and Finch nodded firmly as Delaney padded up the front steps of their home and opened the door, unclasping Claire from her seat and balancing her on her hip. The air inside smelled like fried chicken and cooked asparagus, with the faintest hint of lingering wine. "Your meal smells delicious, John. Can't say I'm surprised. You were always the cook." 

John whipped around at the familiar voice, surging forward to pull her body flush against his own. His confidence sent shivers down her spine when he claimed her mouth in a domineering kiss, tongue gliding along the seam of her lips to tease them open. She tasted like coffee and the smell of jasmine was so strong it nearly overwhelmed him, a low groan erupting from his mouth as his opposite hand moved to dance against her jaw. 

Claires giggling was what forced her to pull away. John inhaled deeply and beamed at his daughter as he rested his forehead against Delaneys, hand moving down her forearm to curve around the shape of her hip. "I missed you all day. It's nearly dark." Her eyes flickered over to the setting sun through the window on the furthest side of the living room, casting a reddish gold glow across their faces. "Did you-Did you bring them with you?"

"Harold and Sameen are both waiting outside for you. I didn't want to overwhelm you by bringing them both in at the same time." Delaney gestured to the door with her free hand, eyes softening when she recognized the reluctance on Johns face. "These are your family, John. You will get no condemnation from them. You want to know the rest of the story?" The door gently swung open to reveal a face John was sure he'd never see again, blue eyes wide against the rims of his glasses. "Who better to ask then the man who started it all?" 

Harold tapped the inside of the doorway with his fingers as Sameen appeared behind him. "C'mon, Mr. Reese." He teased. " _Let us tell you the story of faces we saw and fantasies that became real."_


End file.
